


Maybe on the dark side

by Zeldastloz



Category: Lord of the Flies - William Golding
Genre: Boyfriends, Boys In Love, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Gay, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Minor Roger/Simon (Lord of the Flies), Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, blowjob
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:15:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 12
Words: 52,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24880669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zeldastloz/pseuds/Zeldastloz
Summary: From enemies to friends to lovers, things were seemingly going well for him and Jack. Until one night goes horribly wrong, leaving the island divided in two again— And now Ralph has to fix it.Minor Roger/Simon
Relationships: Jack Merridew/Ralph, Roger/Simon (Lord of the Flies)
Comments: 63
Kudos: 59





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> AHHHH it's great to be writing a full length story again!  
> Might take months to finish but I'll try to update regularly.  
> Hope everyone is well and good, enjoy the story fellow gays!

Chapter 1: Prologue

Present day - Friday 10th May 1967

Ralph darted his eyes around in a frenzy, running with his eyes watered. He looked behind him paranoid by what had just happened. He could see the outskirts of the shore, the small thicket before you enter the beach. There sitting around the campfire like usual was Simon, his curly hair slightly dampened as if he had just gone swimming. A smile crept onto his mouth- perhaps Simon could help him.

Rushing through the trees, he sped towards the campfire, shooting himself as far as he could. Leaping forward, he crashed down onto the ground, skidding forward. The ground was a harsh friction against his skin, but boy did it feel good to be in the comfort of his friend. This patch of land had been designated as their hideout ever since they arrived here. 

Sure, the others boys had hung out here too but it was mostly his and Simon's hang out spot. It's quite far from any of the island landmarks like Castle rock or the Great tree (the place they usually held their meetings), so it was easily the best place to get some peace and quiet.

Sometimes him and Simon would just come here to vent to one another. Like if they had a bad day or they wanted to discuss plans on leaving the island. A few times even they had attempted to build a raft using wood from trees. Then they could at least paddle out to sea and hope to pass a ship. 

Unfortunately their endeavors proved tiresome. Firstly they found it hard to chop down trees, and secondly there was the concern that they would get lost out sea or instead pass an enemy ship. The risk for either was too high considering none of them knew how to sail. Or if they were captured by enemy, they wouldn't be able to defend themselves.

Ralph looked up at Simon, who was eyeing him down, raising a brow.

"Ralph?" he spoke up disgruntled. "What are you doing here so late?"

Ralph stumbled a little, pushing himself up off the ground. Clumsily, he perched himself down next to Simon in an attempt to keep things as normal as possible.

Ralph shuffled around on the log, trying to find some comfort. The fire billowed blissfully beside him, scratching a thin sheen of smoke on his arms. He wobbled his hand around till he could feel Simon's under his. Grasping tightly, he intertwined his fingers till they rest comfortably in Simon's. Looking over at him, he tried a smile but his mouth ached and his eyes felt heavy with sorrow.

Simon squeezed his hand tight, leaning his head on Ralph's shoulder.

"What's wrong, Ralph?" quizzed Simon, glancing up at him.

Ralph rubbed down his arms in distress, "Things are all going bad."

"What do you mean?" he tried for a soft laugh. "Things are fine... I mean accept for the whole fire situation..." he mumbled on.

Ralph heaved a vocal sigh in frustration, "You don't understand..." he replied. "Me and Jack had a fight... an argument and such..." he recalled. "Let's just say it didn't end well- which is why I came here."

Simon shuffled along a bit to face him. He didn't look worried, but his expression had shifted slightly. "What happened?"

Ralph didn't want to talk about it. How could he? It wasn't just a simple disagreement, Jack had completely evaded the area.

"I don't want to talk about it... I'm more worried about what he'll do-"

"What he'll do?" Simon echoed. "But you and Jack are-"

"Don't," Ralph interrupted.

Simon tilted his head upright, heaving a sigh. "OK well whatever happened, I'm sure he'll get over it," was all he said. His voice however remained complacent and stoic.

Ralph let the tears wash down his cheeks, dripping spots onto the sandy ground under them. He had lost him. Was this his fault?

"He hates me!" burst Ralph, frolicking his arms forward. "I didn't mean to- I just-"

"Slow down," hushed Simon, taking hold of his left hand. "It's just an argument. We've had arguments before and we get over them-"

"It's not the same!" he jolted his hand away from Simon's grasp. "Jack is a little... violent sometimes. He has a bit of a short fuse..." he reveled. It didn't bother him that Jack was a little feisty- it was certainly a turn on. But if you were the one to get on his bad side then it's a whole different story. Him and Jack had had miscommunications before and even petty arguments. Though Jack would literally blow things out of proportion, he would always apologise in the end and even attempt to fix things. "And this wasn't just a little disagreement..."

This time things weren't so easy. Jack had completely left him. Told him that he never wanted to speak to him again. And he knew what Jack was capable of- he had a darker side that you had to watch for.

"Simon..." said Ralph. "What are we going to do?" he quizzed with a panic in his tone. He was lost. All this time, he had painted on this facade of optimism and hope. He kept the island in check, made sure everyone was at least functioning.

What he had hoped for is harmony. But had he expected too much? In the beginning this was an easy assumption to conjure up.

Crashing down on this island was a bustle, everyone locked in a frenzy that seemed to swallow the island whole. There was no order, no laws or rules. He remembered it vividly, tumbling into the water, feeling heavy as the ocean dragged him down to his watery grave as though sea bed chains had wrapped around his arms. But somehow, he had overcome the tyrannous waves and survived. Maybe that was what gave him the ignition to try. Try and keep everything together. It was a sign to him.

Things slowly eased as time passed. Ralph was elected the chief. He made it his responsibility to make sure the island functioned. Keep the signal fire lit, make sure everyone had food, build the huts, intervene when arguments broke out. He was solely responsible for everything.

Perhaps he wouldn't have minded being chief for a little while. Sooner or later a ship would see the signal fire, come rescue them and he could go back home unscathed. But that never happened. The big uns and little uns became tired of the rules, they found it more in their best interest to have fun instead. They began to forget about the signal fire as keeping fire watch was a tedious task and eventually no one was willing to do it but him, Simon, Sam'n'eric and Piggy.

"Since I don't know what's going on- I'm just going to advise you to calm down and figure things out tomorrow," Simon eased out, keeping his voice soft with reasoning. "But..."

Ralph cocked his head, eager for a slither of hope. After all, Simon was the one who seemed to know what to do.

"Maybe you could talk to him now..." Simon offered, helpfully. He looked down at Simon, leaning his head against his. "And apologise or work things out. You could wait till tomorrow but..."

He knew he couldn't, "Don't be batty, Simon," he tried for a laugh. "You know that won't work. Do you know what happened? He hates me and I couldn't care less."

Simon lifted his head up, facing him in disbelief. "Couldn't care less?" he repeated, quietly. "You seemed pretty upset a minute again, worried about what to do."

Ralph turned his head in frustration. A twinge of sadness still lingered and it would stay that way until him and Jack finally reconciled. But he couldn't help but bury his thoughts, lock them down into his vault till they calmed down.

"I don't want to talk about him," he huffed grumpily, folding over his arms. It was his way of telling Simon to back off and leave that conversation dormant. "Besides, I much rather just sit here with you around the fire," he tried for a smile, placing his hand on Simon's thigh.

He wasn't trying to flirt. He wasn't. Simon was his best friend, and had been since arriving on the island. So he couldn't quite comprehend why he was tracing his hand along his leg in such a manor. Maybe it was the stress. Or because he was confused with anger. He couldn't tell, it was all foggy and he just couldn't see past the thick blanket that covered his thoughts. He tried for a smile, his worries evaporating. Maybe this was a manifestation of the hurt he was feeling. After what had happened with Jack, perhaps he was seeking comfort almost like a rebound.

Ralph peered his eyes over at Simon, the smoke tingly at them a little. His hand traced up Simon's leg while his other had cupped his cheek softly. He felt ashamed. But he couldn't stop, he lent forward, pressing his lips onto Simon's with his hands cupping his cheeks.

The kiss lasted no more than a second, Simon jutting backwards all so suddenly, gasping for air.

"R-ralph w-what are you doing?" he questioned frantically, pushing him off whilst seizing his shoulder's.

Ralph looked up at him in shame. "I-"

"This isn't you." Simon whispered, a shiver in his breaths. "You love Jack," he warned.

Ralph heaved a breath, feeling ashamed. He don't know what came over him.

Back home, Simon was the pastor's boy. He would go to church every Sunday and spread around the word of god.

When they arrived on the island, Ralph began to explore his sexuality. In England, he liked girls, but now on the island he could finally embrace that he was into guys. He finally felt free of the ignorance from close minded people: people like Simon. But he changed. Simon who usually bashed queer folk, was beginning to accept them. After he had opened up to him about liking guys, he began to notice a change in Simon. He wasn't speaking crap about queer's anymore and he even said he supported Ralph.

Ralph shuffled towards Simon, "Simon- I didn't-"

Simon quickly raised his hands in defense, "No it's OK Ralph," he spoke softly. "I just don't want you to end up regretting this."

And Simon was only laying it out plainly. He was so upset, so hurt by what had happened. He knew this was an act of comfort, an act of confusion but he couldn't help himself. He was nothing more than a sinner.

"I'm-" he couldn't get his words out. What could he say. "I-"

Simon reached a hand over, placing it gently onto his. "I'm not mad," he clarified, trying for a laugh.

"I didn't mean to-" he stuttered. "I'm not-"

"It doesn't matter," he confirmed. "You were just..." Simon trailed.

Ralph curbed his lip absentmindedly, feeling sick with regret. Even now with his huge confidence, trying to come to terms with his sexuality was hard. He wanted to like girls more than anything. So what baffled him is how he came to find such a fancy in Jack of all people.

It all happened so fast. He remembered attending Jack's feast, unaware that it wasn't in fact to spite him or brag. And at the feast, Jack had approached him as if it was the most natural thing in the world, handing him some meat. He couldn't remember exactly how, but then they sat down together, stuffing their faces and talking about random stuff. He assumed it would be suffocating or unbearable, but it wasn't. A few times, Jack even sort of apologised for blanking him back at school. And for taking over the island which was bizarre in itself.

Him and Jack began repairing their friendship and even growing closer the more time they spent together.

But he screwed it up. He just couldn't come to terms with his sexuality, even when he had hoped to finally just be himself. And kissing Simon amounted to the equation. It meant more shit he had to clean up sooner or later.

"Look, Ralph," Simon huffed. "What really happened between you two?" he quizzed. "You and Jack were-"

Ralph jolted his head round in annoyance. "Didn't I say not to talk about him!"

Simon almost moved back, his eyes widening in response. "I was only trying to help..." he spoke. "You came to me for help, didn't you?"

"Yeah but-"

"So just listen then," he reasoned calmly. "Maybe telling me what happened would help-"

"How would that help?" he lashed out.

"Because If I knew what happened between you two then it would make things a lot less complicated."

Ralph locked his hands into fists, feeling filled with anger. He hated it. He hated the fact that Jack was the only person he had ever loved. He had to be a boy. And not just any, but the most self centered one too. And the fact that Simon was keeping his cool made it all the worse.

"We probably shouldn't stay here..." Ralph swiftly replied changing the subject. In less then a second he was bolting upright, clamping his hands together in an effort to distract himself. "Jack and his "hunters" might find us."

Simon looked back at him, puzzled. "I'm so confused," he responded. "Why would they be looking for us?" his voice began raspy with a sense of uncertainty.

Ralph began pacing around the area, his ears pricked. "Because last night before I went back to camp I overheard him talking with Roger, Maurice and Percy," he said quietly. He couldn't be sure that Jack would really be mad enough to unleash his cult-like followers onto him, but he couldn't risk it. Jack was pretty angry. Not only did he overhear him talking to the others, but he was plotting something. "Things are bad Simon. Jack told them stuff that sounded like he wanted my head on a stick."

"That doesn't mean he's going to send the others on us," he reasoned, his arms crossed. "Don't you think that's a little bit over dramatic, even for the likes of him?"

Ralph turned to face Simon, his skin prickling with goosebumps. Maybe Simon was right, maybe Jack would cool off and forgo his grudge. But then he couldn't help but think about Piggy. His old best friend. Once Piggy became a threat to Jack, Roger disposed of him (most likely at Jack's command). He always classified Piggy's death as an accident, and Ralph couldn't help but agree. Even if deep down he knew it probably wasn't. But it was hard not to believe him when he was in love with him.  
But with Piggy's death occurring, the rest of the island became wrapped up in fear. No one stepped up to him. In a way, Ralph hated the fact that he took an interest to a clear psychopath. Jack was clearly unhinged, certainly had issues. But there was something more. He loved him. Under all that malice and clear psychotic outline, Jack was a good person. He seemed like a jerk from far away and even made questionable choices. But after getting to know him, he saw what no one else could.

"You don't get it," Ralph persisted, closing the gap between them. "It was like the fights my father and my mother used to have. They divorced after that."

Simon placed a hand on his shoulder, easing his expression. "Ralph, you and Jack are not a married couple," Simon chuckled. "And that was your parents. If they divorced over one argument, were they even in love in the first place?" 

"I guess..."

"But you and Jack will be fine, couples have fights all the time," he spoke softly. Ralph bit down hard on his lip. "This might sound corny but I've never seen two people more in love before."

Ralph could feel his cheeks heat up in embarrassment. Trust Simon to make things soppy.

"Jack can be a little scary sometimes- but I don't think one argument will suddenly make him turn on you."

But that wasn't just it.

"Simon, me and Jack-"

"Are going to be fine."

"No, that's not what I'm trying to say," Ralph spouted. "Me and Jack-" the words tumbled out of his mouth dryly, his eyes stinging.

Simon raised a brow, "You what?" he questioned. "I know you had a fight but-"

"We broke up!" Ralph bellowed, turning away in an instant.

Trudging away, he could feel Simon on his heel, calling to him. But he couldn't stand there any longer. He thought confiding in Simon would help but really, he knew it would only make things worse. He wondered if Simon would think that it was mutual or even that it was Jack's fault. He had always been mr nice guy, friends with everyone. So he suspected Simon would blame Jack. But it wasn't his fault. They had broken up over a fight.

But that was only half of what happened.


	2. Not over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ralph and Simon revel over the possibility over Jack tracking them down.  
> Later, Ralph flashes back to the night before when the incident occurred.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very sorry for the delay, I wrote this chapter ages ago but hated it so much and ended up rewriting the whole thing.  
> Enjoy!
> 
> See end notes for next chapter info.

Chapter 2: Not over

**6pm, Friday 10th May 1967.**

Ralph could feel his lips parch themselves dry as he made his way through the thicket, through the jungle and out onto the moonlit clearing. He could feel a headache brewing with every second he reminisced the recent events.

Maybe he was paranoid. Maybe Jack would like Simon said, get over it. The sky was cloudy with mist as Ralph arched his back up to face the stars. What could he do. He had come to Simon thinking the events of last night would just flow out of his mouth like a river. Simon could be trusted. After all he was his best friend- and had been ever since they arrived here.

Ralph felt a shiver erupt on his skin. That feeling when you suddenly jolt for no reason. He kissed him. He didn't forget- but he wished he could. Did this mean he had feelings for Simon? Or was it because he had just broken up with Jack and was itching for a quick comfort rebound to distract himself? He didn't know.

Sure, he had found him attractive before but not in that way. It was more of the-hot-best-friend type who you would compete with.

"Ralph!" someone called behind him, sounding breathless.

Ralph turned around to see Simon running all sweaty behind him.

"Simon I just want to be alone..." he admitted.

Simon appeared beside him, looking rather agitated. And this was unusual.

"No," he replied, hanging over his knees. "I just want to help."

"Why?"

Simon furrowed his brows, shooting him a glance as he eased upwards. "Why?" he echoed. "I'm your best friend you know!" he reminded him. "Of course I should be worried."

Ralph said nothing.

"Don't be like this," Simon edged closer, sounding panicked. "You can't just come to me saying that the hunters are going to be after you and then expect me to just accept that," he droned. Simon was right.

"I know..." Ralph said finally. "I'm sorry- I just don't think I'm ready to tell you what happened... yet anyway," he admitted, clenching his stomach to busy his hands from fidgeting. "I thought I did, which is why I came to you, but I guess not..." he slouched, rolling back his shoulders.

Ralph stood motionless. Not that he minded Simon finally speaking up for once, he just wasn't used to it. Their dynamic had been the same for the past three years: Ralph was the trying-to-be-good-and-keep-peace-guy and Simon was the quiet best friend who never said a bad word about no one.

"When did you two even... break up?" Simon slowly managed to ask, sort of shifting the tone of subject. His eyes looked like diamonds in the night sky.

Ralph lowered his head, he night breeze flushing against his cheeks. "Last night... same time as the argument"

"Why didn't you come to me after you two had the fight?" he proceeded as if he was his father, scolding him. "Where have you been all day? Hiding from him?"

Ralph bit his lip again as if by habit. He didn't want to think about that night but it wasn't easy to block out. Slowly he nodded.

"I wondered why you weren't at this mornings meeting..." said Simon peculiarly. "But I just reckoned you let Jack lead it like always or wanted some alone time-"

Ralph cocked his head as if by surprise, "Wait- he was at this mornings meeting?" he rolled out nervously. "W-what did he say?" though he knew this was no surprise. Considering what Ralph saw and heard, he knew very well that Jack wasn't going to be laying low anytime soon.

"The usual," he shrugged. "Just wanted new recruits to hunt with him- didn't mention anything about you though."

And that hurt. Somehow, it lingered sorely and tore at him from time to time. Ralph wondered, why it did. Surely this was good news to hear. Jack hadn't used this meeting to devise some devilish plan to evoke his demise. But there was still the feeling of uncertainty. It's like Jack had completely forgotten about him, or was pretending to at least.

Simon heaved a sigh, rolling back his shoulders. "Besides that..." he continued. "I know you don't want to talk about last night- but I can't help you if I know nothing."

He looked up at Simon, innocently. He was right. Talking about it would loosen the tension and provide clarity to the situation, but it could without a doubt worsen matters. What happened last night was still bothering him. Mostly because it was his fault and he felt ridden with guilt.

"Ralph?" he waved an arm in front of his eyes. Ralph twitched slightly, realising he wasn't listening. "If you didn't want to talk about what happened- then why did you come to me asking for help?"

Technically he didn't ask him for help, but he did go to him nonetheless.

"I don't know... OK?" he admitted. "You're my best friend Simon- I trust you- but I just feel like if I tell you what happened it could make things worse. Jack might get mad if he knew I told you," he loosened his mouth as it fell into a sort of frown. His arms felt cold and bumpy as he rubbed his hands down them.

"You're worried he's watching us?"

He nodded unsure. "I don't know," threading his fingers together, clamping his hands. "This is Jack we're talking about... who knows what lengths he would go to."

Simon was shaking calmly. Even after all he had told him, even though visibly he looked terrified, he still managed to appear level headed. And that was the problem with Simon. He hated showing weakness. And not even a Jack-not-showing type of weakness. Jack would hate showing weakness at stuff like facing dangerous animals; he always convinced everyone he wasn't scared of anything even though deep down he was. Simon on the other hand had no problem being scared of certain circumstances. He wasn't scared of the "beast" but he was certainly scared of man descending into savagery. Even if he tried to deny it.

"Would he be watching us?" Simon piped up nervously, his cheeks white. "Because I'm not sure he would waste his time... on that."

"I don't know," Ralph repeated.

He looked around nervously. Would he be watching? He wasn't sure if he would in fact muster a forever grudge over this, nor whether he would even care if he told Simon. Perhaps he would. But he couldn't risk it.

Simon shook his head, his curly hair flopping over his eyes. He pushed it back. "I guess all we can do is wait," he tried a smile. "Cross the bridge when we come to it."

But still there was this twinging feeling of uncertainty that this wasn't over.

**Thursday 9th May 1967 - 10PM**

_Ralph stepped back hastily, realising what he had just said. The clouds parting in the sky with their feathered silky cloth unbinding. His hands were marked now. Jack looked up at him, clenching his fists with the growing anger building speedily on his face. Jack stepped back quickly, stumbling as the grass was soaked from the heavy fall of rain._

_Ralph laid his hands out in front of him, the rain pattering down on his bloody knuckles. He glanced up again at Jack, his nose running with blood that trickled down his chin before his arm retracted upwards to wipe it off. Ralph came forward, lost for words._

_What had he done?_

_The rain sprinkled harshly onto his face like mini knives slicing into his skin. He reached an arm forward, shakily stretching his hand onto Jack's._

_Jack quickly snatched his hand away, glaring back fiercely at him._

_"Don't," he hissed._

_"Jack I-" he began, breathy and lost for words. "I didn't mean any of that-"_

_"Save it," the redhead snapped, cleanly swiping the back of his hand across his dripping nose._

_"No-"_

_"I said save it!" he bellowed, his voice strained and raspy._

_Ralph felt queasy, his legs trembling with fear and guilt. His own self doubt had demolished everything they had. And the pain in Jack's voice. He could hear it. He felt awful._

_"No-I didn't mean to hurt you-"_

_"You made your choice!" he shouted bitterly, gnashing his teeth against the pouring rain. "Now live with it."_

_Ralph edged closer, clamping his hand on Jack's shoulder. In an instant Jack had clutched hold of his wrist, churning it slightly before yanking it off._

_"Fuck off Ralph," he hissed, scooting off in retreat._

_And then he was gone. The silhouette of him under the moonlight vanished beyond the hills._

_Ralph wanted to go after him but wasn't sure. It was probably for the best to let him cool off. Ralph looked down at his hands again, tracing his thumb across his left knuckle. The pain still throbbed and ached, still ripped and bled._

_Ralph dropped to his knees, sitting down soggy on the grass with the rain still flushing down his face. He could feel the blood from his lip trickle like a tap into his mouth. The coppery taste made him feel nauseous. Lifting his hands up, he buried his head into them. And then it all came out. He couldn't help but cry. He had thrown away what they had and it was all his fault. The tears ran down his face, mixing in with the rain water and plopping to the ground._

_How selfish he was being. He had led him on. But he still couldn't wriggle his way around it all. And he didn't want to. He had become so warped up in his own self doubt, so careless beyond reasoning that he had dismissed his feelings and allowed himself to project all his anger onto Jack. He couldn't help it._

_Ralph darted his eyes up, catching a glimpse of the stars. Strangely enough he had coerced Jack into stargazing. Of course, it was his suggestion but Jack had agreed to give it a go. In the beginning Jack wasn't the most thrilled by lazing on the hills and staring at a few balls of gas in the sky. And at first it was mostly Jack complaining and moaning as per expected. But gradually as they did it more often, he seemed to loosen up to it all. They would lay side by side, hands tightly held as they observed the stars. The wonders of the sky. Sure, it was a little uneventful at times, they didn't see any shooting stars, but anything was better than worrying about the future or struggling to run the island._

_It was enough._

_And yet he had ruined it. Ralph heaved a sigh, brooding on the memories for a quick distraction. Slithering his hand down his neck, he twisted it round to take a look back. The way back to camp._

_This gave him an idea. He could go talk to Simon. He was after all his best friend and would hopefully be able to help. Not that he deserved it- but he wanted to make things right. Jack didn't deserve someone like him- he deserved better._

_Clambering to his feet, still shaking, he began on a slow pace back to camp._

**Thursday 9th May 1967 - 10:30PM (on his way back to camp).**

_His legs ached as he prodded onward. If he wasn't so tired he would've made it back to camp ages ago. But the fastest he could go was snail pace so he here was, only on the outskirts of the jungle._

_He felt hopeless. Would Simon really be able to help? Not only that- but Simon was a literal golden child. He had never done anything wrong is his life- so what would he think of him?_

_Ralph glided his feet sloppily along the ground, nearly dragging them while gradually, he lifted his head up. In the near distance was a strong, glowing light refracting off of the thick jungle leaves. It looked like the glow of a campfire. Ralph peered upwards overhead to notice the steady billow of smoke. Typical, when it suited the boys they would easily make a fire, but when it came to keeping the signal fire going they became lazy. He couldn't help but roll his eyes, and head over to check it out._

_As he approached closely, he could faintly hear the whispers and chatters of talking coming from the other side of the jungle. Carefully, he shuffled over, crouching down behind a tree in a hushed manor. He was curious as to who was cooking up a fire at this time, and not even close to camp._

_Slowly scrambling to his feet, Ralph peered behind the tree thicket. It was really hard to see because it was so dark so instead he followed the light and made sure to keep well on the outskirts. He couldn't risk being seen by them, not in his state. Tiptoeing, he made his way more in the forest- still keeping to the side. It was so uncomfortable on the ground with the rough texture grinding against his feet, but he made sure to keep quiet._

_Ralph shimmied along the background, gazing inward to catch a glimpse on the campfire. It was four boys huddled round it. And then he saw him. Jack. Sat firmly with them, one leg crossed over the other one. He seemed reasonably unharmed, though his nose was notably bleeding and his eye black._

_Ralph stumbled backwards, his legs shaking. He could quickly leave and go the long way back to camp, but he was undeniably curious to hear what Jack would say._

_"Jack, what happened to you?" Maurice piped up, looking like a meme as per expected. "You look like death."_

_Jack swiped his head suddenly, folding his arms. "Is it any of your business?"_

_Maurice raised his hands in defense, "Just curious, no need to get all mad at me."_

_Roger turned his head to Jack, looking beyond intrigued. "So did you get attacked by a beast or something?"_

_Jack slowly shook his head, still working hard on his resting bitch face. "Do you think a beast would've just broken my nose, you twat?" he snapped, dragging a soft palm over the tip of his cut._

_Ralph watched guiltily as Jack clutched onto his nose. He should just leave, but part of him wanted to wait and see what would happen, what Jack would say._

_Roger pursed his lips into a snarl, "What's up with you?"_

_The other boy Percy curbed his lips into a smirk, "He's always pissed!" he burst, cackling with laughter._

_With that a little ensemble of laughter broke out, Percy now rolling on the floor to exaggerate the situation. Even Roger had a snicker escape his bone dry lips. Ralph watched in disgust. At first he was stunned that Roger even let out a shred of laughter, but that shock faded. Roger was only laughing because of Jack's humiliation._

_"Have you ever seen him happy?" Percy continued, his face bleached red. "Cos I sure 'aven't!"_

_"He is when you know who is around," Maurice batted his eyelashes, pulling a charmed grin appealing his friends._

_"Oh that's right!"_

_"Ralph!"_

_Ralph lent forward, gripping onto the tree for support. He had been crushing on Jack for over a year before finally opening up to him. He was the one who wanted this. He wanted to be with Jack so badly. And when he was finally given the opportunity, he ruined it. Spoiled it like it was nothing to him. It was like a house gone wrong. A house where the foundations built were unsteady and incorrectly layered. The parallels sunk in. Ralph's desperate wish to be with someone was doomed before it even started. They were built on uneven ground. A relationship where one isn't comfortable._

_Now even the others were saying Jack was happier with him. It made him feel worse._

_When he first confronted Jack with concern about their relationship, he thought he was doing him a favour. He found himself to be in constant fear that the others would find out. If they split ways, that wouldn't be a problem anymore. However it escalated, things got out of hand._

_Soon enough the campfire lit with laughter, the boys rambling and giggling over eachother._

_Jack shot his head round, slamming his fist onto the hollow surface of the log they were sitting on, causing the boys to stop in an instant. Even Roger looked a little startled._

_"I don't give a crap about him!" Jack pelted furiously, tightly folding his arms._

_"Don't give us that chief," Maurice nervously spat. "You're always hanging out with him, taking him hunting and stuff."_

_"Yeah and alone too," Percy dabbed in, groaning under his voice. He sounded like a child. "Like, what about us?"_

_Jack's expression dropped, his shoulders flinching. "He was a good hunter that's all!" Jack clarified, his tone of voice defensive and frightened._

_Good times hunting with Jack. The memories they shared. But he made his choice, to push him out of his picture for good. He wouldn't have to worry about getting caught yet he was still unhappy._

_He missed Jack already and yearned so desperately to go back and change things. If only he hadn't done what he did. He loved him, no matter how hard he denied it._

_"But you were friends?" Maurice grinned._

_Jack's shoulders slouched as if relief had passed over him. "We were friends, past tense," he responded stubbornly. "But we're not now, got it?" he added bluntly, indicating not to push the matter. "I'm chief now, not him. From now on if anyone mentions that piece of shit- you can kiss your face goodbye because I'll get Roger to beat the living shit out of it."_

_Jack then turned an eye to Roger, who grimaced back at him in confirmation._

_And then there was silence. Ralph's mouth gaped, a little hiss of a gasp escaping. He quickly palmed his mouth, startled beyond reasoning. He was scared. Jack hated him and was now even threatening people if he was talked about. Maybe he was bluffing, but that didn't make him feel any better._

_"Now all of you- get out of my sight," said Jack sarky yet sincerely._

_That was his cue to leave. Ralph made his way behind a large oak tree- just in the nick of time before noticing the huddle of boys dragging their heels along the stony path. Soon enough they were already out of the way, heading back towards camp, a long hum of sighs dragging out._

_Ralph waited for the rush to disperse before curiously taking a peek at the barren campsite. He watched with anticipation, hoping Jack would leave or perhaps for a long shot see him._

_He watched with empathy at the person who he had betrayed to the worst degree possible. Watched him hunched over, his arms dangling on his knees. He knew he could easily go the long way to camp- but he didn't want to. Not only would it take twice as long, but he had other plans in mind. Maybe if Jack saw him they could talk. Reconcile over things-even if Jack wouldn't trust him again._

_He observed for a while, still with the plan of talking things out. His fingers hanging on the edge of his lip, grinding his teeth down on them._

_Finally Jack arose from his seat, tossing a barrel of water over the fire before turning his heel to leave. Ralph stepped forward, accidentally treading over a tree branch piece. The snap sounded shrilly as Jack turned back round, his eyes staring right back at him. And for a split second their eyes met. Jack was looking right back at him, expressionless._

_His eyes stung, but for that moment he had an ounce of confidence. A hopeful smile grew on his face but there was also the feeling of loss. He felt hope, and then it was gone; all in a matter of seconds. Ralph took one look before quickly collapsing behind the tree in fear, abandoning his talk and fix things plan. He couldn't tell if Jack had began walking again because his frightened breaths were heavy and loud which muffled every other noise._

_So he waited._

_And waited._

_Until he finally had the courage to pull himself back up and peek behind the tree._

_But Jack was gone._

_Not over. Never over._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading and supporting. 
> 
> The next chapter is already written and edited so it will be out very soon.


	3. Miscalculations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon and Ralph return to the camp to find an unexpected scene.  
> Meanwhile, Ralph has a flashback of him and Jack's first real connection.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rewriting has brought me here. Sorry for the delay, but enjoy the chapter!

Chapter 3: Miscalculations

**Present day - Friday May 10th 1967**

"I guess all I can do is wait it out then," admitted Ralph sloppily. "Maybe I was overthinking everything..." he trailed off, with a faint belief

And so Ralph gave Simon an apathetic glance, turning his heel to leave. Just when he began walking, Simon stopped him swiftly, pulling on his arm like a scared child.

"What is it?" said Ralph rather bluntly, turning to face him.

Simon heaved a sigh, pushing back his mopped curls. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry? For what?"

Simon eased his hand up his scalp, "Well for one, I'm sorry you and Jack broke up. I really thought you two were great together," he took a pause. "But I'm also sorry for pushing you to tell me. It was wrong."

Ralph eased a smile, shaking his head. "It's fine," he replied. "Maybe me and Jack will work it out, just like you said... and I guess telling you did help after all."

Simon nodded, smiling.

"And I know I haven't told you the full story yet..." he trailed. "About what happened," he hastily added. "But I rather just keep it to myself. For now."

"It's OK," said Simon, unbothered. "I think you'll be alright in the end."

And Ralph smiled with gratitude.

"Come on then," Ralph beckoned with a little more enthusiasm. "I think we should head back to camp. I know I'm probably just paranoid-" he cut himself off, gulping. As much as he tried to shun his worries out, they kept crawling back in. He was terrified. Because if anything went wrong, there would be no where to hide, no where to quickly escape to. They were on an island. An ethereal island with no way off. "But I really just want to go back to camp and sleep it off."

Simon gave him a slight nod, "Good idea."

Ralph took Simon's hand in his. It felt comforting, especially with the dooming sounds of the owls squawking in the midst of the jungle, or the rustling swaying of leaves in the wind. As he grasped his hand and began to stride headstrong into the darkened jungle, he felt a frequent wave of tranquility. The breath of fresh air. The warm, fuzzy sensation of pure happiness all flooded in at once. But there is was again, the guilt rippling through. Holding his hand reminded him of the times he spent with Jack.

So why couldn't he let go?

**2 1/2 years ago**

_Ralph trembled at the sight of going into the woods. One of the little uns Percival had reckoned he saw a snake thing, slithering in this exact province. And being Chief, he was required to check it out. Because if it was a snake or something, they would need to kill it in case it were poisonous._

_He peered in, squabbling at the thought. Just because he was Chief, didn't mean he wasn't scared of anything. Ralph took a step in, clicking his heel as he trudged down on a stray tree branch. Hundreds of leaves were sprawled out everywhere, and dry ones too. Those leaves that crunch under your step as you walk on them._

_Ralph took another step, until a louder footstep followed behind him. In a panic he turned around, eyes shut, chopping his arms frantically. "Please don't eat me," he squealed pathetically._

_"Pretty sure you wouldn't taste good."_

_Ralph winced one eye open, then the other once he realised who it was._

_"Jack..." he breathed, feeling a little silly. "Before you say anything- in my defense it was dark and you didn't even call out first."_

_Jack rolled his eyes, "Well if I had called out, it might've scared the snake off."_

_"Hey," elongated Ralph. "I thought you didn't believe in the snake thing- you said it was utter nonsense," he chortled, impersonating the redhead._

_Jack scowled his brows, crossing his arms in a huff. "Well I still don't," he said grumpily. "But if it is real then I don't want it to get away- or we might all get bitten."_

_Ralph gave a smile, "So then you must sort of believe in it, or you wouldn't be worried."_

_"Actually, I don't believe there is a snake. Just kids nonsense," he said bluntly. "But it's pretty insufferable hearing those little uns' whine on about it, so the least we can do is prove it's not real to shut them up."_

_Ralph looked up at him, a little annoyed. "Oh and is that why you came to find me?" he questioned. "Because you couldn't be bothered to take some responsibility and calm them down- or reassure them?"_

_"Do I look like their father to you?" he replied with haste. "I don't know how to handle kids."_

_"And yet you wanted to be Chief," Ralph laughed, grinning. "See you would've be terrible at it. The kids would've been screaming about some snake and you would've just ignored them," he paused. Jack looked back at him, his cheeks flaring. "At least I'm fixing the problem."_

_Jack's flustered expression melted away, his lips grinning upwards. "Solving the problem, eh?" he chuckled. "Nice try Ralph, but you've been staring scared at the woods for ages now. The reason I came to find you wasn't even because of the little uns. I could've gone anywhere to get away from them," he confirmed, gloating him downwards. "I came here because you were taking soooo long."_

_Ralph let out a small chuckle, "So then you just wanted to spend time with me?" he offered chastely, grinning._

_Jack flinched, "No," he spluttered quickly. "Why would I want to spend time with you?" he remarked._

_He shrugged cleverly. He couldn't help but feel flattered. "You said I'm taking too long- but why do you even care?"_

_Jack looked speechless, "Because the little uns are whining dumb dumb," he paused. "And I want it to stop."_

_"Why didn't you just go to Castle rock to get away from the noise then?" he quizzed, knowing he was winning this argument. "I mean you did say you could go anywhere to get away."_

_Jack stood defeated, clumsily clenching his hands into fists before finally opening his mouth, "You wish I was here to spend time with you," he said. "I only came to here to find the snake myself. Because if I do- the little uns will think I'm the better leader and elect me instead," he had his hand on his chest proudly, with a sly tone in his voice._

_But Ralph didn't buy it. He decided to let him have this one, but only because he was tired of arguing. Clearly, Jack wasn't here to win the trust of some four year old's in nappies. Jack never once payed any attention to their needs or them in general- so why would he suddenly want to impress them. If this wasn't bullshit- then he didn't know what was._

_Ralph looked back in the woods with fear. Jack was right about one thing: he was scared to go in the woods._

_"Well what are you doing just standing there," Jack said abruptly. "Let's go find this snake." he gestured disbelievingly._

_Ralph gulped silently, the nerves crippling his vision. Sure it was just a jungle. In the day, it's fine but it's a totally different story at the dead of night. Not to mention the possibility that there could be some deadly snake. By now Jack was nudging him in the side, coaxing him forward._

_"Ralph stop standing there like a dumb dumb and let's go," he grabbed a hold of his arm and began yanking him forward._

_Ralph looked up at him and pulled back. No way was he going to risk getting bitten. Yeah maybe the little uns were seeing things, but who would wanna take that chance? Ralph tugged his arm back in refuse and shook his head._

_"Go by yourself," Ralph insisted, folding his arms. "You said you wanted to catch the snake by yourself, remember?" he smirked. "To win the little uns trust," he reminded him, taking this opportunity to gloat him for once._

_Jack turned back to look at him, surprised. Ralph knew he had caught him off guard. "What, you scared?" Jack quickly taunted._

_Ralph smiled, "You wish. I just don't want to go," he said plainly, stretching out his arms. "Too much effort as you always say."_

_Jack spat a laugh, "Says the guy who spends unnecessary time guarding some holy signal fire."_

_"At least the signal fire is helpful," he persisted, feeling fired up. "But I don't particularly want to get poisoned."_

_Jack stared him up and down almost with judgement painted on his expression. "We don't even know if it's poisonous."_

_Ralph quickly faked a yawn. "Well actually, I'm pretty tired so I'm going to head back to camp."_

_Ralph turned to leave, waving._

_Soon enough Jack had grabbed his hand, steadily clutching on. "Wait-Ralph," he piped up._

_Ralph felt his cheeks fluster. Just holding his hand was more than enough for him. It gave him hope that Jack liked him back- even if that was only a dream. Regardless, it was nice. Ralph turned to face him wide grinned. He couldn't help it._

_Jack looked down at him embarrassed, yanking his hand away from his. And the moment was gone._

_"Look Ralph," he cleared his throat. "You win, OK? Is it so wrong for me to want to hang out with you?" he questioned stiffly. "Even if it's to find something that isn't here."_

_Ralph smiled helplessly. "Why didn't you just say you wanted to hang out?"_

_"I thought you didn't like me."_

_Ralph felt attacked. Those harsh, spiny words cutting through him. Truthfully, he'd never given him a proper chance because first impressions last. The first time he met Jack was in school. Ralph had just unwillingly moved house and was the new kid on the block. When he started his first day at his new school, Jack had invited him to eat lunch with him and his friends. But he was shy. He suspected Jack was the popular type who played footy at lunch and was very popular with the girls. And he just wasn't interested in being friends with Mr popular._

_So he kindly declined his offer and that's how him and Simon became friends instead. In Maths, Simon and him had sat together and got on really well. The next thing he knew, they went to lunch together. Simon introduced him to his other friends: Piggy, Sam'n'Eric and a boy called Daniel._

_Jack however seemed to take this as a personal attack. Even when he tried to apologise for not giving him a chance, Jack would sulk off, blanking him. This seemed to continue for the whole school year._

_So when they arrived on the island, it was clear to him that it would be a waste of time trying to befriend him. But it wasn't easy avoiding him. He had this infectious charm about him that made him very likeable without reason. And once he got time to know him better, he realised that Jack wasn't the school bully he originally thought him to be. He was much rather the opposite._

_"I do like you!" Ralph said a little too eagerly, then quickily rushing to tone down his voice. "Look... in school you kind of acted as if I didn't exist, just because we got off on the wrong foot," he explained. "And I guess I assumed that here on the island, things would be just like that. So I didn't bother to give you a chance. And I'm sorry."_

_Jack rubbed his neck down, "My bad," he said. "I didn't mean to ignore you- it's just you didn't want to be my friend. And I took it the wrong way- because everyone wanted to be my friend."_

_"I was just shy," Ralph admitted, embarrassed. "You were Mr popular and I wasn't really wanting to be in that crowd."_

_"I get it," he said unconvincingly. "I overreacted. Sorry for blanking you."_

_Ralph sighed in relief, hoping he really was sorry. "It's fine- It was ages ago anyway."_

_He felt a certain relief wash in. Did Jack just apologise?_

_Jack smiled warmly, turning to go into the forest. "Come on then. Let's go."_

_Ralph bit his lip. He shouldn't be scared of some jungle, but he was. Ralph reached for Jack's arm and grabbed hold of it._

_"Can you hold my hand?" he asked shakily._

_Jack gave a chuckle, "What are you, five?"_

_"Look I just have a fear of snakes OK?" he said. "Go ahead and laugh-"_

_"Alright fine," Jack grabbed his hand, gruffly. "Are you going to stop whining now?"_

_Ralph held his hand tight. "Hey, I wasn't whining," he said. "You know helping a friend out isn't a big deal. You know, deep down I don't think you're all that cold hearted."_

_"Yeah, yeah whatever," he muttered. "Don't look too far into it."_

_Ralph felt more at ease with his hand in Jack's. Quite honestly, he was surprised. Jack wasn't the sort of person to be seen dead holding hands with someone, so he was sure he had caught him in a good mood._

_Or maybe it was something else._

**Present day - May 10th 1967**

"Ralph?" Simon buzzed, tugging at his arm with effort.

Ralph had zoned out for so long, he barely noticed they were coming back into camp.

"Sorry," he apologised quickly. "I think I zoned out for a minute."

Simon stayed grappled on his hand, "Got a lot on your mind?" he offered. "I don't mean to be rude but you look like death," he stated. And it wasn't even like he was saying it to spite him. His tone was more _matter-of-factly._

Ralph shook at the thought. It was exactly what Maurice had said to Jack last night. _You look like death._ It was quite a coincidence that Simon had _complimented_ him in the same way as Maurice had to Jack, but he shook it off anyway.

"Well I'm still annoyed," Ralph said firmly. "Actually... I'm annoyed at myself. You know the fight? Well it was all my fault."

Simon widened his eyes slightly, but not in a judging way. "Your fault?" he echoed, dragging his heels along the path.

"Yes."

"What do you mean?"

Ralph heaved a sigh. "I just said and did things I shouldn't have."

And then the conversation closed for a while; Simon didn't ask any further questions. Soon enough, the silence became monstrous as they paced through the jungle thicket with their hands still intertwined and the light dimly shining. It was night time after all. Like the time he and Jack went through the jungle to find the _snake-thing._ Only it turned out not to be a snake thing. Percival had a nightmare about a snake and then thought there really was one lurking in the jungle. He wasted their time, but Ralph was just glad to have spent the time with Jack.

Ralph squeezed Simon's hand a little. He wondered what Simon was thinking right now. It was hard to read him.

He was a nice person for sure. Very one with nature, very empathetic and encouraging. But even knowing that, Ralph still could never truly guess what he could be thinking. Was Simon mad at him for keeping him in the dark about the fight? Did Simon blame him? Thing is, it's not like Simon would ever complain. Even if he was angry at Ralph, he would never say so.

What if Simon already knew what happened and just didn't want to let on he did. Jack could've gossiped about him at the morning meeting. Simon said he didn't say anything, but was he lying to make him feel better?

Ralph kept his step high. The sudden thought of that gave him a tingling sensation up his legs and arms. They walked a little while longer, finally noticing the end of the path. The opening through the thick, jungle leaves where the camp is situated. He'd never felt so relieved to be back.

"Finally," Ralph dragged out a sigh.

Simon suddenly let go of his hand and hurried forward. He was more eager than him.

With two hands, Ralph pushed the leaves out of view and sauntered through the opening behind Simon.

But when he looked up, everything was different.

The huts had been destroyed, the fire had all but burnt out into ashes and there were multiple trees toppled violently onto the ground. All chipped and chopped and crushed. Ralph couldn't believe it.

He quickly ran forward to scope the area, left and right. Everything was in ruin. It was as if a storm had hit or some giant tsunami had clattered with the camp, taking everything with it. The only remains of the camp were the twisty vines and twigs from the huts, laying flatly on the mud and the crisp fire which was nothing but a charred mess of a log pile now.

"Ralph!" Simon exclaimed worriedly, running back to him. "What happened?"

Ralph clenched his fists, "I don't know..." he said very faintly.

Simon looked at him in a panic, examining the area. "Did a storm hit us?" he questioned with heavy breaths escaping his mouth.

Ralph looked around feeling empty and hurt. If it was a storm, it would've wiped out other parts of the island not just here. Plus, they would've heard it. The sound of the thunder would've easily notified them. No, it wasn't a storm. He knew exactly who would've been petty enough to trash the place.

Jack.

Ralph turned to Simon in disappointment. "I know who did this."

"What?" he piped. "Who would've gone through the effort to-"

"Simon," Ralph barked. "Don't you get it? It was Jack and his bloody hunters."

"Ralph-"

"No," he snapped, kicking at the ground. "Because of what happened, he's doing this to get back at me. Trashing the place, destroying our huts..."

Simon rubbed down his arm tensely, almost in disagreement. "But how did they cause this much damage, we were only gone for a little while."

"There are quite a few of them," noted Ralph. "They have weapons and- and they probably all worked together."

"Just to get back at you?"

Ralph nodded glumly, walking around.

"Let's just find the others..."

Ralph showered the area, hoping everyone had left and not been crushed under the mess. From then on he knew Jack wasn't going to get over it.

Just as he suspected. Simon had miscalculated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you if you read till the end.  
> Until next time!


	4. That wasn't the plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a long day of finding the camp in ruins and some of the boys gone, Simon and Ralph argue over what happened while they were both gone.  
> Meanwhile, Ralph flashback's to the night it all went wrong, focusing on how the argument was initiated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An new chapter for you all ;)  
> Was able to update quicker. Hope you're all well and good.  
> Also yes this is another build up chapter, but I didn't wanna rush the story so I'm taking the time to build the scenes. 
> 
> WARNING: chapter includes reference to sex. 
> 
> An important note: Pay attention to the time of each flashback from that night in order to understand the chronological order of it and how each thing led to another.

Chapter 4: That wasn't the plan

Present day- **Saturday 11th May 1967**

It was now morning, the sun beaming in an orange glow to the broken tents. After finding the camp completely obliterated and trashed, they searched the area for the others. Fortunately, majority of them were unscathed. But to their dismay, Eric and a few little uns were no where to be seen.

They had trekked through the jungle thicket and even the sandy shores to make sure. Nothing. Ralph returned that night feeling scared beyond reasoning. Eric was missing. As were countless nameless little uns. And the devastation upon Sam's face was heartbreaking. His twin brother was missing. After tirelessly searching, they returned with a heavy heart back to their demolished camp and settled down for the night.

It was too late at night to ask anyone what happened, especially not the little uns. They were all shaking on the ground, curled up like cats. Him and Simon agreed to ask in the morning instead.

Ralph quickly glanced up at the sky, quickly shielding his eyes. Without a clock, he had no idea what time it could be, but he guessed about late morning when considering the position of the sun. Ralph got up off the floor and stretched his arms upwards. The first thing he wanted to do was check up on Sam. So with that thought he made his way over to the trampled campfire where he noticed Sam was crouched, his head buried in his lap.

"Sam?"

The younger boy looked up at him, startled. His face lit up suddenly and he looked relieved. Ralph sat next to him with complete sympathy. It wasn't like he knew how he felt. He didn't have a twin brother or any siblings for that matter, so he couldn't imagine the pain he must be feeling after realising his twin brother was gone. But he still aimed to comfort him, still understood that loosing someone can rip you in the worst way. After all, he lost Jack. Maybe not in the same way Sam had lost Eric, but the aftermath remained equal. Ralph hesitantly placed a hand on his back, unsure what would help.

"What do you want...?" he sniffled.

"Just came to check up on you," said Ralph. "Didn't get a chance to last night... we were all tired."

Sam slowly wiped an arm across his red eyes.

"Oh, well... thanks..."

Ralph leaned in to examine his face. He gazed closer and soon enough spotted marks across his cheeks and eye. Harsh bruises on his face. Branded marks of violence he hadn't noticed until now. That reminded him, it was now morning and him and Simon were going to ask everyone what had happened. And now that he had seen the state of poor Sam, it gave him an even bigger incentive.

"Sam, what happened to you?" he asked worriedly. The younger boy looked up at him, his brown locks flopping over his eyes. Ralph pointed directly to the marks across his right eye and cheek. Sam pressed his palm onto his eye in assumed embarrassment. "What happened here last night while me and Simon were gone?" he persisted urgently.

"Well-" he sniffed.

"Ralph!" Simon called from across the campsite, jogging towards them.

Ralph tried to ignore him, edging Sam to tell him everything. He was so desperate to know that this was all Jack's fault, that he orchestrated all of this. It would make him feel better.

"Ralph!" Simon called again. This time he had appeared beside them.

Ralph bit his lip in frustration and turned his head upwards, clambering off of the floor.

"Sorry- I didn't mean to interrupt you. I was just coming to check up on things..."

Sam turned away.

"What is it?" Ralph replied shallowly. "I was about to ask Sam what happened last night."

Simon looked pleased, despite knowing it wouldn't be a happy tale.

"Well what did he say, does he know where Eric and others are?"

"I didn't get to ask him because you interrupted us," he said spitefully.

Simon parted his lips in offense.

Ralph drew out a long sigh. "It's fine we can ask him in a minute." he dabbled. "S'not like it's something we don't already know. We know who took them, it was-"

"Jack and his hunters," Simon finished, a slight undertone of annoyance. "And they're probably at Castle rock."

He clamped his hands together, threading his fingers through. He had just about enough of Simon trying to act as if this was a little dispute that could be settled fairly easily. Or that he was completely wrong for thinking Jack could be leading the assail.

"Stop trying to defend them," Ralph spat suddenly. "All of it points directly to them! I have proof now. Sam- he had bruises across his face. So how can you stand there and say there must be another explanation?"

"I'm not-"

"You are!" he hissed. "You and I both know what Jack is capable of- yet ever since I told you about this, you keep directing it off of him."

Simon heaved a sigh, "Ralph, calm down," he drawled. "I'm doing it to help you."

"Help me?" he spat vitriolically.

He nodded.

"How would that help?" Ralph folded his arms over.

"Because, I know how much he means to you," he said softly. Ralph eased his gaze, slowly feeling the anger dissipate. "Don't you want things to be OK between you two?"

Ralph rubbed his arms down, feeling a little guilty. "Of course," he said dryly. "Of course I do..." he repeated solemnly.

"I was only trying to make things better," he said. "Why are you so determined to pin the blame on him?"

Ralph bit his lip, "I-" he stuttered. "I thought it was the easiest thing to do. That if I assume Jack is scheming behind our backs, wrecking the camp, kidnapping the others, it won't break my heart if it turns out to be true."

There was a pause. Simon snaked his arm up his back, appearing at his side in comfort.

"I think we'll sort this out," he said gingerly with enthusiasm. "We'll find Eric and we'll make things right between you two, between us all," but even he sounded dubious.

Ralph felt his chest tighten. He looked down at his fists, the marks of guilt still embedded into his knuckles.

"You keep saying that..."

Ralph felt the throbbing sensation in his fists. His heart ached and welled in a rhythm never ending. Stuck in this consistent callous cycle that followed him closely ever since he landed on the island. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that everything seemed to have been doomed from the start. Not only did he fail as Chief of the island to get the others to listen to him, he failed to tell Jack any qualms he had before the big blowout. And to top it all off, he arrived on the island with the bitter assumption that Jack would be an awful chief when he never gave him a chance in the first place.

And he felt utterly guilty to know that he was idolised by the other boys as this golden boy, the saviour of the island. Simon had told him once that there is good in evil and evil in good. At first he shun away that notion. He couldn't quite comprehend how that could be true when children certainly couldn't be capable of evil, especially young children. As time passed he began to almost feed into the truth: there really there is good and bad in everyone no matter age. Children can become corrupted by the events surrounding them or by the treatment they receive.

And it made Ralph ponder over his reasoning for his self destructive behaviour and his valley of masking. He knew he wasn't comfortable with himself, yet he flung naively off into a relationship he wasn't ready for. He led him on. And damaged the both of them in the end. He wondered carefully why he acted that way. Was it because of fear? Or the known fact that he would be a disappointment.

"We can only try," Simon piped up, smiling really hard. Ralph snapped back, pretending to have heard everything. "Jack flies off the handle at the littlest things, so is it really any surprise he's wrecked the camp?"

Ralph shook his head lightly, "We shouldn't underestimate him you know. Not when we don't know if Eric and the others are OK," he felt his voice drop suddenly. "What if they are torturing them?"

Simon furrowed his brows, "Why would they?"

"For information," said Ralph bluntly. Simon's face shifted quickly, looking frightened.

"Kidnapping them to torture them for information?" he said each word individually sounding a little queasy, his feet tapping on the ground.

"Or maybe as bait- I don't know..."

"What information could they want?" Simon innocently questioned.

"Where I am," he concluded. "We weren't at the camp and so maybe they took Eric and some of the others as like a warning," he felt confused as he rambled out his words. "Or maybe _it is_ bait- like they want us to come find Eric just so they can trap us."

Simon looked like he too, was accepting the slight truth in what he was saying. It made perfect sense. Jack and his hunters scheming cleverly behind the scenes, huddling closely with their callous laughter filling the air of Castle rock. He could picture it as if it were vividly being shown to him right this second. Jack laughing with arrogance as he drew out the plan to trap them.

"We can't play into their hands," stated Ralph with confidence. "If we do, it will be giving them exactly what they want."

Simon gestured a hand, "What about the others?" his eyes lit up as if the reality had just hit him. "If you're right about this- we can't just leave them."

"We won't."

Simon's forehead was visibly dribbling with beads of sweat, his calm posture twisted into a slouched position. His arms had bent behind his back, his lips curbed back into a fold. "Well then what do we do?" he said outwardly, body rocking forward and back.

And it wasn't like Simon to show fear so forwardly, Ralph took note of this.

"You OK Simon?" he pried gently.

Why would he be?

Simon suddenly stood upright, "I'm fine."

Ralph gave him a glance of reassurance, an almost _its-ok-to-be-scared_ glance. Considering Simon had been glossing the situation in pretty paint this whole time, perceiving it to be an easy fix, it felt strange to see Simon switch so suddenly.

Simon shook his head profusely, "It's nothing, really. I'm just worried for our friends."

"I am too," he admitted heavily. "I didn't mean for all this to happen. See, I didn't even think we'd be stuck on the island for this long," Simon looked towards him with a sadness perpetuated into his gaze. "I thought a ship would see us and we'd be off the island and on our way back to England. Instead, we're stuck here..."

Ralph sat himself down on the floor in grief. It was rough underneath him, burning hot even, and dry. But most of all it was low. Before, they had seats made of wood from the trees and hammocks hanging between the trees. Ralph cupped his hands and dragged his face into them, wiping the layer of sweat off. It was hard to think with the heat digging into his skin, and the hard ground rocky and lumpy.

He had to take a moment to conjure up a plan. Should he give in and go find Eric? Or on the other hand, stay put and wait for the outcome. What were Jack's goals at this point? He didn't know. He could sort of understand his intentions of kidnapping Eric and some of the little uns. Jack knew everything about him: his strengths, weaknesses, hopes, dreams. And one of his main weaknesses was the safety of others. Jack had laid it out slyly, stealing away some of the other boys to lure him to Castle rock.

But it still had him baffled and puzzled. Why would Jack, (if this were the case), want to lure him to Castle rock? His hunters outnumbered them tremendously, making it easy and simple to confront or trap him here instead. Why go through all the trouble to get them at his hideout?

Simon plopped next to him. "Last night you said this was your fault. That he's doing this to get back at you?" he asked in confirmation.

Ralph nodded ashamedly.

"...But you didn't really tell me why."

Ralph shook his head.

"I understand how you must be feeling responsible for all this, but why can't you at least tell me what started the argument?" he questioned. "You know, what was said in the first place."

Ralph hunched over, clamping his hands on his cheeks. "Like I said, I don't think you'd like me very much if I told you the full truth."

Simon raised a brow, looking anxious. Ralph turned his head swiftly, sitting up straight. "Why not? These things happen you know. But these things get figured out... at least that's what my parents always told me," he explained. "They said that no matter what, things always work out in the end. It can't be _that_ bad!"

Ralph looked back at him, his eyes lit up with curiosity. It's easy to give advice to someone. Easy to encourage and assist and advise. But doing it is another matter.

**Thursday 9th May, 8PM, 1967.**

_"No Jack, we can't," Ralph spat angrily._

_Jack grabbed his hand lovingly, "You said you wanted to."_

_Ralph could feel the tears prick in the pools of his eyes. "Well now I don't know," he said raspy._

_Jack looked at him, disapprovingly, dropping his hand violently. "You can't just change your mind like that," said Jack, fury in his tone. "Just a minute ago you said you wanted to tell the others-"_

_Ralph strode back, "Well that was stupid of me to think. They can never know!"_

_Jack furrowed his brows, "Why not?"_

_"Because they can't."_

_"Why not?" he asked again, his tone was thicker this time._

_Ralph clasped his hands together in a frenzy, his pulse fast and heavy. He had to get out of Castle rock right this second. He darted his eyes around the room, the room of sins and mistakes. The room they had sex. Ralph set his eyes on the door and without hesitation he left. He strode in a panic out of the entrance and onto the dimly lit open area filled with trees and littered with grass and rocks._

_He rushed for the grassy bank, sweating profusely against the cold winds. Jack wasn't far behind, running after him. Eventually, Ralph felt the clasp of Jack's hand around his wrist as he was thrust round to face him._

_Ralph stared back at him, overwhelmed and exhausted. He tugged and pulled and cried, wanting to be anywhere but here._

_"Let me go, Jack!" he pleaded._

_Jack held on desperately "What are you so afraid of?" he asked genuinely. "Can't we just talk about this?"_

_Ralph shook his head, pulling roughly. "Please I just want to go."_

_But Jack held on, grasping tightly. "Not until you tell me why you're acting like this!" he growled, perturbedly. "For fucks sake Ralph we just had sex, and now you're running off!"_

_"Just stop being a prick and let me go!" he ignored every word. Blocked it out and pretended they hadn't just slept together. He didn't want the others to know he was gay, let alone that he was in an intimate relationship with Jack Merridew._

_Jack's fingers tangled around his, his fingertips warm and inviting. Ralph resisted, finally slipping through his grasps. He turned round, Jack's arms had dropped beside his waist. He looked shocked, disgusted and most of all hurt._

_"Again I ask, what are you so afraid of?" Jack asked dryly, gesturing his hand upright. Ralph looked up at him, heavily breathing. What was he truly afraid of?_

_He had to stop and think, pause for just a moment with the moonlight glaring down on him. What was he afraid of? Did he really care what the others thought of them? Of course not. It was the consequences he feared. Eventually, they would be rescued and that means flying back to England and into the home of his religious family. His very homophobic family._

_Him and Jack would be forced to separate, remain friends. Even if they planned to meet up in secret, the lingering thought of dishonesty and dishonour would follow him like a bad smell. No matter what, someone would find out eventually and then would commence the prolonged pain of arriving home and seeing the shock on his families face._

_"I'm afraid of us!" he blurted, startling a new opening to miscommunication._

_Jack arched a brow, his nose suddenly scrunched up and his mouth parted. "Afraid of us?" he echoed._

_Ralph shook his head, "That's not what I meant..." he corrected._

_"Well make up your mind Ralph!" his partner bellowed, a crack in his voice. "You can't just say you love me one minute, then run away scared the next."_

_"Yes I can!" he said quickly. What was he saying? Ralph bit down on his lip in distress. He fucked up. He wanted this so badly, but it was unrealistic. Almost like a fantasy, he held this image of his and Jack's wedding in his mind, yet realising they could never. And why should they? Only men and women can marry. "I can't do this right now."_

_Jack appeared flustered and hurt, but didn't completely show it. His posture was composed and polite, but his face was fire red._

_"I thought you wanted this."_

_Ralph reached a hand out, shakily grabbing hold of Jack's. He stepped forward closer, the space between them endless however. He did want this. But he didn't want to handle the aftermath of their secret revealed. It was too much agony too think about._

_Jack tilted his head downward, his expression filled with anguish. "I thought you wanted this," he repeated more firmly. "Thought you wanted to finally tell the others about us."_

_"I did," said Ralph softly. "But I don't know now."_

_"I know it won't be easy," he admitted. "But I won't let them hurt you."_

_Who was Jack referring to? The other boys? His family? Did Jack also have the same fears as him?_

_Ralph could feel his hands trembling as_ _Jack leaned in closer, breathing calmly in the space between them. He almost felt claustrophobic as Jack traced a thumb across his jawline in a soothing manor. He moved his head out of the way a little, avoiding his eye contact. Jack persisted, his other hand looping round his shoulder and up to his collarbone. His touch was soft and gentle and warm yet, dangerous and risky and wrong. Ralph was locked into Merridew's open arms, their lips inches apart. Ralph couldn't help it, he felt trapped; submerged into a pool of sin._

_Jack inched forward, pressing his lips against Ralph's pale cheek. It felt safe. Yet standing behind him was the image of his father. The anger and hatred painted on his face, the fury in his eyes, the disappointment dripping down his face. The inevitability that was being sent to some children's asylum to be corrected, or a conversion camp. Ralph could feel his heartbeat speed up dramatically as Jack traced kisses along his jawline, gently yet fervently and lustfully. Eventually, he felt Jack's hands rub up against his chest, the feelings exploding out of it. It felt nice. But it was wrong. Jack moved quicker, their lips meeting forwardly. Jack was now kissing him hungrily, his hands held at the back of neck._

_At first Ralph gave in for that moment. He held onto Jack like it was only them. Only the two of them in the world. Their tongues collided softly and playfully, little giggles in between. But the screams of horror and disgust grew. He could only imagine the perplexed look on his mother and fathers face. The cries and shrills._

_"Get out!" he could hear his father holler in anger. "Get out! I never want to see you again."_

_Ralph opened his eyes briefly, "Wait, Jack," his voice trembled with anxiety._

_But Jack wasn't listening, his lips pressed lustfully against his neck._

_"Jack!" Ralph motioned, pushing him slightly._

_The redhead jolted upright, "Huh, what?"_

_Ralph turned away in embarrassment._

_"Was I going too fast?" he asked, concerned. But Ralph said nothing, his body shaking. "Ralph?"_

_Ralph hated himself. He hated, hated, hated himself so damn much. Why couldn't he like girls? Why wasn't he normal?_ _He rubbed his arms vigorously. His face was wet, yet he didn't feel any tears dribble from his eyes. His father would hate him. His mother would hate him. His whole neighborhood would hate him, would spit on him every time he walked past._

_"WHY ARE YOU SUCH A DISAPPOINTMENT?" he could hear his father belt across the living room._

_"HOW COULD YOU DO THIS?"_

_He trembled at the thought._

_"Ralph?" Jack said again. "Are you-" he appeared beside him._

_"YOU SHOULD LIKE GIRLS!"_

_Ralph grappled his arms more violently, scratching them up and down._

_"WHO'S GOING TO HIRE YOU NOW? YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE A LAWYER!"_

_Jack placed a hand on his arm, looking down at the deep gashes he had made. "Ralph stop!" he shouted worriedly, pulling his arms apart. "What's wrong?"_

_"YOU DON'T LOVE HIM!"_

_Ralph snapped his head around, his eyes heavy and sore. He extended his arms, forcefully shoving Jack to the muddy floor. "I don't love you!" he hissed nastily, dashing away from the scene._

_He didn't look back._

**Present day. Saturday 11th May.**

Ralph shook his head in misery, his voice dry. "It is _that_ bad-"

Simon sighed.

"You said you wouldn't ask anything more about it anyway."

Before too long, Simon got off the ground and dusted down his knees, "Come on then," he said drearily.

Ralph was surprised. Not that Simon was the pushy type, but he wasn't expecting him to just take his word for it and leave it. He sure wouldn't have, so the respect he felt for him grew instantly. Ralph smiled, getting up.

"Where are we going?"

"To ask Sam exactly what happened- you know like we planned."

As Ralph followed behind Simon closely, he looked beyond his shoulder in remorse. His own sorrowful lamentation following closely. Wherever he went, memories flooded back to him.

He thought it would be for the best to split off from Jack. That was his plan. Doing so would ensure that his parents didn't disown him, the other boys didn't try and kill them and that he could force himself to like girls eventually.

He didn't however plan for it to go that far. He didn't plan for it to take a toll on him and set him on the path of grief and sorrow. Letting go of Jack was the hardest thing he had ever endured. And the way it happened would leave permanent scars for the both of them. He wanted to be angry that Jack was hunting them, but he wasn't.

Sure, he projected his anger indirectly onto Jack, by pushing Simon to believe that he was causing all this damage. But at the same time, grappling onto the truth. Jack wasn't attacking them for no reason. He was doing it as a move of vengeance and hurt.

And Ralph knew all too well how that felt. He was hurting on the inside. Insecure about his identity. And so he took out all his self hatred and pivoted it onto Jack instead. So he couldn't blame him for doing the same. It was a Jack thing to do. Instead of talking it out or trying to mend their broken bond, he would unleash his hurt onto everyone else to make them feel how he felt. Did he agree with what he had done? Not at all. But he understood why he was. They were both dealing with the situation in very different ways, just like how people deal with grief in different ways.

He didn't mean for that to happen. That wasn't the plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> see you next time!


	5. Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The truth about the camp invasion is revealed and a plan to invade Castle rock is made. That is until someone unexpected arrives at their camp and the group is separated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy chapter 5 :)

Chapter 5: Storm

**Present day - May 11th 1967**

Ralph pursed his lips as he followed closely behind his friend. His legs ached under him, with the ground hot under his feet when walking. They hadn't gone far, so a few strides later they were already standing above the young boy.

Ralph crouched down next to him, leading Simon to do the same. He knew this wouldn't be a happy tale. This wouldn't be a quick and easy explanation.

"Sam?" Ralph spoke quietly. The younger boy looked up at him, his face still wet and rosy red like before.

Simon shuffled closer. "Can you tell us what happened?" he asked in authority.

Sam wiped his arm across his eyes and nodded childishly. But he said nothing. He sat there, staring straight back at them in silence. Ralph tried a gesture, waiting patiently to finally exert the truth from this chaotic mess. And still he sat there, shivering now.

Simon being Simon approached him from the side and leaned in to hug him in reassurance. Ralph scooted over, joining Simon to comfort the young boy. It was a moment, but it felt nice, tranquil even. It was a reminder to him of the times he was frightened of the dark as a young boy and his mother would come in to soothe him back to sleep. Of course, this was a much more serious matter and they weren't trying to rock him to sleep. But sometimes a hug is all you need. To know someone cares about you and wants to listen to you.

Sam took a deep breath, sniffling in between. Ralph waited again in equanimity, without saying a word. Sam pushed his curly hair back, clearing his throat.

"When you were gone," he began. "We were all sitting around the campfire- well some of us were sleeping, but I-I was in- _sniff-_ the centre talking about what we'd do after we got off the island."

He shuffled around a bit, clamping his hands together. "And then they came," he suddenly broke out in tears. Simon had already began cradling him like a baby. Ralph sat there motionless, he was on the edge of his seat to prove his suspicions were right.

"They came with their spears!" he bellowed dryly. "And then went around trashing everything, trampling out our campfire, poking us with sticks- _breath-_ and then grabbed Eric and forced him to come with them!" he paused, out of breath. "And some of the little uns too..." he added slowly, appearing confused.

Simon had his arm around the young boys shoulder. Ralph went to shout, _I told you so_ as loudly and proudly as he could, but didn't. Instead, he sat terrified. Hands sweaty and legs numb from sitting on them for the past five ten minutes. After all this built up frustration bubbling in his blood, all this desire to prove Simon that it was Jack and his hunters behind this escapade, he didn't mutter a word.

It wasn't worth it. Especially knowing that Sam got hurt, that he had his twin stolen away from him. And the others too, were hurt because of this childish raid of vengeance. It wan't worth it.

And besides, Simon was only trying to make him feel better like he said. He didn't really think it was a storm or some freak accident, Simon indisputably knew it was the hunters. But he tried to deflect that possibility to make him feel better. Ralph appreciated that to such a high degree. To have a friend willing to do that.

Simon huddled closely to Sam, "I'm so sorry..." he muttered sympathetically. "Do you know where they took him and the little uns?"

Sam shook his head, cocking his head upright. "I would guess back to Castle rock..." he trailed.

Ralph watched carefully. It still made no sense to him. Even knowing that Jack has overly dramatic revenge plots, he still felt like a fish out of water. Like fire encased in ice, without the ability to burn through even though it should be undeniably simple.

But if that's where the others were being imprisoned unfairly then so be it. He had no choice but to comply with Jack's terms. If he even stood a slither of a chance to rescue them, he would be required to think like them. It was crystal clear to him now that this was all being laid out purposely. Whether it was to single him out to snuff out the truth in front of everyone, or perhaps as Castle rock is an enclosed space, making it easier to be trapped. Whatever Jack's reasoning, it didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was rescuing the others and then with luck, getting off the island.

He didn't know how of course. Simon and him had tried many many times to built a make shift raft and maroon off. But every single time, they failed. The raft would capsize or sink. So how they planned to fit everyone on a raft that sank with two people on, he didn't know. But what else did he have to go on?

Simon was suddenly nudging him in the side, which hurt more than it should have. Ralph nodded to let him know he was listening, despite knowing that the last thing he heard was the assumption the others were taken back to Castle rock.

"Do you agree?" Simon asked him unexpectedly. Ralph had no idea what he was supposed to say so he just stared back at him blankly. Simon heaved a sigh, "Do you think we should ambush Castle rock?"

Ralph widened his eyes as if Simon had just spoken French to him. Off the bat, he knew that would be a terrible and risky plan. How on earth could the three of them, plus the little uns invade an army like theirs? Not only were they outnumbered, but they weren't the most skilled fighters. He didn't quite want to imagine Simon fighting with his halo perched on his head.

Ralph shook his head, "No way," he blurted. "That's a death wish."

Sam looked angry, his brows furrowed. "We can't just sit here and let them win!"

"I agree," Ralph quickly agreed gently. "But we are outnumbered and they have all the skilled hunters on their team." He was about to point out how none of them knew how to fight, but felt that would be too harsh.

Simon turned his head up to Ralph, "Well what do you suggest we do?"

There was only one plan he could think of. This was his mess, his problem that needed to be swept up. And not just swept under the rug, out of sight; It needed to be fixed completely. It was his fault after all. His friends were quick to defend him, quick to shine the light on him and assume Jack is simply just being Jack. But it wasn't the case. At this point they were both in the wrong. And not just because they had both said and done brutal things to eachother. It was the aftermath.

Ralph looked around in disgust. The island looked ugly, inside and out. No flowers blossomed, no grass shone vibrantly in the beaming sunlight. Everything was shriveled up, colourless and dim. And it was his fault. One argument had managed to divide the island in two. An argument only between him and Merridew, had netted in the other boys, even if it had nothing to do with them. And even though that's what friends do, help you through tough times, Ralph still felt heavily guilty for it. They shouldn't be defending him.

"I will go to Castle rock," said Ralph finally. "Alone."

"Alone?" Simon repeated in doubt.

Before he knew it they both had their eyes glued to his. And they looked scared.

"I have to."

"But why?" Simon persisted.

"Because this is _my_ fault," he confirmed. "Not yours, not Sam's. Mine." he dug his index finger into his chest.

When he looked at Sam, he could tell he had no clue what was going on. He was going to fill him in, but felt it unnecessary. Simon would surely do that for him once he left. With the two just staring disapprovingly at him, he felt pressured to say something. Simon was a good friend which meant he would be the type to say something along the lines of, _I'm not letting you do this alone,_ or _We're coming with you._ But it was all soppy and mushy for his liking.

Yes he respected Simon's overprotective behaviour, but not enough to let him tag along. And he wasn't thinking this to be spiteful or cruel or even arrogant. He was doing it to help them. He would hate himself for eternity if something were to happen to Simon because he let him come. And quite frankly, someone needed to watch over everyone while he was gone.

"I promised I'd help you," Simon said. Ralph felt the chills wash down his spine. He knew he wouldn't be able to leave without Simon weaving in. "I know this is between you and Jack, but you'd be going up against _all of them_ ," he said with emphasis on that last part. "Safety in numbers, right?"

"Yes... but," he wasn't prepared to allow them to come. And perhaps he was inching towards the selfless category, but it was better than selfishly putting his friends at risk. "It's too dangerous."

Simon seized his shoulders all of a sudden, shaking him slightly. "If you go alone it'll be more dangerous. And besides, we're your friends."

He could feel his anger rising like a storm on the horizon. After all this time, he had avoided the topic. Pushed it away. But not anymore.

"Yeah?" he hissed. "Well look what happened to Piggy!" the others let out a small gasp on hearing that name. It wasn't that they didn't mention him, it was that when they did, it upset everyone greatly. A very sore subject, especially for him and Simon. But he carried on. "Piggy was our friend! And-and because I let him stick up for me, look what happened. He was crushed by that boulder and thrown over a cliff!" he was shouting now, pelting his enmity and anguish to hope it'd make him feel better. The image of Piggy's head splattered crimson on that rock had dug it's way out of his long term memory. "Now do you get why I don't want to risk you coming?"

Simon didn't say anything, nor did Sam. Opening up about Piggy was like pouring salt into an open wound. No one truly got over Piggy's death. Ralph took Simon's hands and gentle pulled them off. No amount of persuasion would deny the fact that it was better if he went alone. He wasn't trying to big himself up, or prove he could do this without help. For him it was the right thing to do. You make a mess, you clean it up.

He shook his head firmly with a weak smile before finally walking away. Arms dangling down by his side, heart in the pit of his stomach, he made his way in the general direction to Castle rock. Soon enough he felt a wave of relief wash over him, like a fire extinguished by water in which scenario he was the water. He could hear faint calls from both Sam and Simon from behind him, but those calls were muffled in the wind and he had to ignore them.

That it until he felt Simon latch hold of his arm as if they were a lottery ticket blowing in the wind. "Ralph, wait!" he whispered loudly, tightly grabbing hold of him.

Ralph turned round fully, irritated. He respected Simon for wanting to help, but it still pulled at every nerve in his body when he heard his voice shriek behind his ear.

"What?" he spat. "I know you're worried about me, but what part of _I'm doing this alone_ don't you-" Simon quickly pushed his hands on his mouth, shushing him.

"MMM?" he tried, but it came out as a mumble.

Simon was shushing him again, his other hand gesturing him to pipe down. And finally he realised why. Simon pointed discreetly over the other side of the demolished camp and indicated a shadowy figure standing there. Ralph stopped trying to talk immediately. He had a closer look, his pulse quickening and his legs trembling. His vision had fogged over slightly from the levels of fear he was experiencing.

He looked beside him at Simon and Sam, who had huddled together like penguins. Then gazed shakily back at the person, glaring at them from the other side. It was none other than the devil himself with a soul darker than hell. He could feel the animosity grow steadily the longer he stared at him. What did he want? He tried to stay calm, steady his hands and straighten his back. But the more he tried, the more obvious it became that he was beyond terrified.

It was Roger.

And he was the most nefarious person he had ever come across. Full of hatred and anger and a lust to hurt others. Not to mention his inability to feel remorse or sympathy. He felt pissed. All he could think about was Piggy.

He never truly got over Piggy's death. Not entirely anyway. They were friends for years. But then he was killed. Crushed by the rolling boulder and launched off of the cliff side off of Roger's own hand. Once upon a time, he believed it was Merridew who shoved the boulder onto Piggy to shut him up or simply as an act of jealousy. It was no lie that Jack did feel some resentment towards their friendship. For whenever they spent time together, he would always catch Merridew watching from afar in distaste. So when Piggy was killed that day, Ralph automatically assumed it was Merridew who decided to hurl the boulder down the mountain, hurtling against Piggy till he fell of the cliff.

It was a horrific sight, an image he never was able to erase from his memory. It gave him a dangerous loathing for Merridew. He hated him. Despised him. It was only when he overheard a conversation between Roger and Merridew did he descry the truth. Whilst he hid silently amongst the greenery, Roger was busying himself by boasting on how strong he was to have pushed such a heavy boulder onto Piggy.

This wasn't the norm for him either. Roger was usually quiet, yet sadistic. He preferred to be the shadow behind the master, the one to bludgeon his fantasies without the spotlight shining onto him. From what he remembered of Roger back in school, he was a bit of an outcast. Very intelligent surprisingly, especially at math and science, but he wasn't very social. Nevertheless, he still wound up closely knitted into Merridew's gang. Bullying the younger years both physically and mentally. Eventually, he was expelled after beating a young boy to death in the school playground. What happened after that, he didn't know. What he did know is he had assuredly joined Merridew's choir and had arrived the same time they did on the island.

Ralph glared at him in choler, readily able to take him down. He took a few deep breaths, suppressing the urge. "What does _he_ want?" he growled. But there was no answer. "Simon?" he glanced beside him only to see Sam.

"Sam?" said Ralph. "Where's Simon?" his voice cracked slightly, feeling a typhoon of sickness wash over him.

Sam shakily pointed ahead. Ralph cocked his head, swaying his arms. Fucking great. He had already began sprinting, his breaths heavy. Simon was already inches away from Roger, his floppy hair swashing from side to side.

"Simon!" Ralph hollered desperately. "Wait!" he quickened his pace, bloodcurdling fear drilling into him. But he kept running, dashing towards him as if his life depended on it. And no matter how many times he shouted for him, Simon didn't slow down or stop or even turn back to look at him.

Ralph was getting close, but not close enough. Simon and Roger eventually had both disappeared one after the other into the jungle thicket, while he was only half way across the grassy plain. He quickly stopped, bending over his knees till he collapsed. Everything was over.

"Ralph?" a nervous Sam called from above him. Ralph refused to open his eyes, completely exhausted. He wondered how on earth Sam caught up with him so quickly. Was he that slow of a runner?

He took another breath, feeling ill. If Simon hadn't stalled him, he could've been at Castle rock by now and this whole malarkey could've been easily avoided. But no.

"R-ralph?" the scared boy called again.

He gently opened his eyes to see Sam shivering above him, clutching his arm. "What...?"

"What just happened?" he whimpered childishly. Ralph carefully sat up, his back aching.

He stretched his arms up lazily, his head spinning. "Simon happened."

Sam said nothing. Ralph glanced up at him and then back down to the grassy floor. He surveyed the area carefully, the grass a dull yellow and the flowers all trampled and destroyed. It reminded him of his choices. It was all his fault. Everything was in ruin.

"W-what do you mean?" Sam piped up, stumbling over his words clumsily. "I don't understand!"

Ralph choked out a maniacal laugh, clambering unsteadily off the ground. "He fucking left, OK?" he pressed a finger harshly onto Sam's chest.

"Left?" he confirmed. "What do you-"

"I mean he's gone after Roger!" he trudged in circles.

"But why-"

"Because he didn't want me to do this," he spluttered. "He knew I was going to go to Castle rock alone and so Simon being Simon decided to stop me by going after Roger!"

Sam just stared back at him blankly. Was he taking in the information?

Ralph paused for a breath, brooding over his thoughts. "He's being a good friend..." he stopped pacing, clasping his hands together. "Going after Roger so I don't have to."

"But- but Roger will kill him!" the younger boy gasped, appearing beside him with an ocean in his eyes. "We have to go after him now!" he trotted past Ralph in a hurry, before being stopped.

Ralph grabbed his wrist, detaining him. "Of course we are going to go after him," he said. "But It's not Roger who we need to worry about. Roger won't kill Simon," he felt weird uttering out that sentence, but it was sadly true.

"What do you mean won't kill him?" he spilled. "Roger is a menace! He kills anyone who stands in his way!"

"Normally, I'd agree," he sighed. "But Simon is the exception."

With the wind blowing steadily against his hair, the younger boy stepped backwards. "You're not making any sense," he said shrilly.

"There are some things you don't know about Roger and Simon."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoyed :D


	6. You won't let go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A flashback centred around Roger and Simon with a glimpse on their history.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy the chapter!  
> Ty for all your support.

**A/N: This chapter is from Simon's perspective.**

* * *

Chapter 6: You won't let go.

**2 years ago**

Piggy was gone.

Simon cradled his arms and legs in terror, glimpsing up at the jungle thicket surrounding him. And he was alone. It was only yesterday, Piggy was still here, still whining on about his asthma or projecting his intellect onto everyone. In the best way possible of course. Piggy was wise. He knew they were all down spiraling, knew they were slowly descending into savagery. But no one listened. As much as Simon hated to admit it, even he had trailed from the word of god at some times. Though he stayed faithful to the lord and prayed once weekly, there were certain sins he was sure he had bordered. That was another story to tell though.

Piggy was an atheist, or Simon assumed he was. But he was one of only boys never to give in to the darkness weaving everyone else in. Even his friend Ralph, who tried to keep order on the island at all times, who put others needs before his own had drifted over time. Not that Simon blamed him. Life on this deserted island had evoked a misery inside everyone, feelings of emptiness and somber. With that said, Ralph still kept things hopeful for them. Even when Merridew had left him and taken majority of the others with him, Ralph still held his head high and made everything that little less severe.

But that was before all of this. That was before Piggy died.

His death provoked a chain reaction from everyone really. Simon heaved a sigh, wiping a soft hand over his eyes to dismiss the lowly tears that were triggered by the memory. After Piggy was killed, Ralph had confronted Merridew in anger and hurt, Jack completely dismissed him and and then him and his hunters began throwing rocks at him, letting him know he wasn't welcome any longer. Almost as a threat.

That's what Ralph had told him anyway. He was going to come with him, but Ralph had told him to stay at camp to keep watch. Not that he would've been able to fend off the others if they did in fact invade what was left of their camp, but he had to try.

It wasn't long before Ralph returned in a frenzy, out of breath and gasping for air. He told him the full story, the confrontation, the boulder, Piggy's death. Simon didn't know how to feel at that point. All this time, he had prayed and wished and hoped that there was still some good in humanity. Even if he knew the truth about the beast; the beast was in them this whole time. No one believed him though. Everyone laughed and mocked his knowledge, even when he was right.

He was shattered. Piggy was gone and they were all alone.

Until that night, before they went to sleep, Ralph proposed a plan to rescue Sam'n'Eric. He said that they were just being coerced and held against their will. He wanted to get them out of Castle rock. Simon wasn't confident with the idea, but agreed in the end since they didn't have a lot of options left. But something went wrong. Simon awoke in the blazing heat of the morning only to find Ralph gone.

Scared, he spent that morning searching high and low, whilst keeping his voice to a minimal volume. But with no luck. He was sure he looked everywhere. And with the fiery heat drowning his health, he made his way into the jungle to cool off.

And here he was after all this time. He had thought about going back to camp, in case Ralph had retreated back there too, but there was this worry in the back of his mind. What if the others had found their campsite? He would be walking into a death trap.

Simon panned his head up, taking a long look at the vibrant blue of the sky. After all, he couldn't be sure of where Ralph was. For all he knew, he could've been captured. And that meant they would come for him too. And that ending wouldn't be a pretty one.

Simon shook his head heftily in disbelief. The thought of Ralph being killed or even just injured made him feel ill. Him and Ralph had been best friends for years. He had to hope that Jack would spare him. Despite their moral conflict and hate for one another, there was something about them he couldn't quite decipher. Jack acted differently around him. Nicer almost. Which sounded bizarre but it was true. When Jack was with his hunters, he acted like a complete jerk and made sure to throw extra shade onto Ralph. Saying things to his hunters like: _I am so sick of this guy,_ or _I've had enough of Ralph._ Even mildly threatening him at times.

But alone, Jack and Ralph got on well together. Simon could only assume that Jack's hate for Ralph was a facade. Maybe to seem to superior and ruthless to the others, make them fear him. He couldn't be certain.

He could only hope that maybe Jack did like Ralph and therefore wouldn't hurt him.

Simon got off the ground, his legs wobbly and achy. Sitting around wouldn't help anything. Just as he stretched his arms up, he heard a noise. A sudden swash in the bushes around him, followed by a sinister laugh.

Was he hearing things? He didn't want to imply that he was going insane, but how could he deny it when only a week ago he was chatting to a pig's head on a stick that claimed to be the lord of the flies. Of course, he did have an epileptic fit just before that, so that could've caused the hallucination. Regardless, he still had to wonder if he was really hearing things.

He turned around, his body shivering. Suddenly, he heard it again, the footsteps and movement amongst the trees. He cocked his head, gulping as the footsteps grew louder like they were closer.

"Gotcha," a voice snickered behind him.

Simon pelted forward, stumbling over his feet. He quickly turned round to see none other than Roger standing in front of him. His stomach rolled over as he gulped again, this time for longer.

Roger. The sadistic sociopath. The only person on this island that he truly feared. He was so feared that even Jack acted much less prudent around him.

Simon stared him blankly in the eye, biting down on his lip with thoughts of running. But where could he run to? The island was most likely swarming with the hunters. That or he had blocked all exits of the jungle in advance.

"What do you want."

Roger's lips rose into a smile, his brows arched.

What did Simon expect? For him to spill him every detail of his plan. He stepped back a little, hoping he would suddenly wake up and this would've been all a dream. He gently pinched himself on the arm. Nothing happened. He felt sick. This was it, he was about to die, die before saying goodbye to Ralph.

"You look nervous," was all the black haired boy uttered.

Simon didn't say anything. Roger was positively insane. Even if right now he bent down on his knees and begged for mercy, Roger would have no problem killing him. But that was expected. Roger was a sociopath, (or at least he assumed him to be,) which prevented him from feeling any remorse or normal human emotions. And that terrified him. Roger could kill him in cold blood and simply go about his day without a shred of guilt to carry.

"You shouldn't be scared," he stepped closer to him, hands behind his back. "I'm not here to kill you."

"What?" Simon questioned. "W-well then why are you here?" his timidity was shining through as he stumbled over his words.

Roger strode quickly towards him, closing the gap. Simon winced, his hands trembling.

Roger laughed arrogantly, "You really are scared."

Simon lowered his hands, "Of course I am."

"Shouldn't be."

Simon could feel his nerves stand on edge, his head pounding tremendously. Not only was he beyond petrified, he was sick and tired of being taken advantage of by others. Just because he was someone who didn't believe in violence and was probably weaker than the others boys, that instantly made him a target. And he had just quite enough.

"I'm sick of this!" he piped up, wagging a finger towards him. "You can't just do this and expect to get away with it."

Roger laughed lightly, "Calm down," he said. "Not here to kill you."

"Then why are you here?" he was still shouting, but Roger seemed unbothered, his lips parted straight. "Aren't you satisfied? You have taken everything from me and Ralph!"

Suddenly, Roger lent forward and kissed him without warning. It lasted for a second, but it was a kiss on the lips all the same. He had just engaged in a sin. Or at least been victim of one. He gasped as Roger pulled back, feeling dirty. He felt unusually flustered. He didn't hate the kiss, which is what scared him most. It was a kiss from Roger. It should've felt disgusting and wrong. He should've pushed him off and screamed as loud as he could. He didn't. He in fact quite enjoyed it.

"Jack want's to set the island on fire," said Roger, brushing over the kiss. "So I'm here to warn you, hoping you'll get to the beach when that happens."

Simon looked at him in confusion. What was this madman playing at? First kissing him, now warning him about some fire.

"What?" he panted. "Why is he doing that for?" he asked, dodging the burning question. Maybe if he forgets about it, he can pretend it never happened.

Roger shrugged carelessly, "Don't know."

"You don't know?" he echoed. "You are going to set the island on fire without reasoning?!"

He nodded.

"You can't!" he spluttered. "If you do, you'll kill us all!"

He shrugged again, "It sounds fun," he said. "As long as we all get down to the beach. Water."

"The whole island will be destroyed!" he reasoned. "And we can't stay in the water forever. What happens if we get tired?"

He shrugged. "Jack really wants to snuff Ralph out from hiding. Fire is the only way to do that."

Simon couldn't believe what he was hearing. "You said there was no reason."

"I lied," he laughed. "Chief really wants to find Ralph."

"Why?"

As he glanced up, he saw the clouds shift gracefully, blocking out the sunlight. The dark pall of the sky loomed down on them, the clouds recoloured grey. It looked like it was going to rain.

"Solves the fire problem," Roger said. "It will rain."

"Just cut the crap!" Simon cursed unintentionally. He nearly gasped. "You hate everyone! Always have. So why are you bothering to tell me about the fire? Huh?"

Roger cleared his throat noticeably.

"WHY?"

"I like you."

Simon was taken aback; that was not the response he was expecting. It stung almost, brought back memories he didn't want to remember. From the years spent on the island with him, all he had ever done is torture and hurt the others. The hand behind the murder. Several times he would beat and flag the other boys with no consideration or empathy for them. So why would he go out of his way to help him.

"I know you still think I'm heartless," he muttered, sighing afterwards. "I'm not."

Simon laughed unintendedly. He couldn't help it.

"Stop laughing. Come with me," Roger said strangely calmly, offering out his hand. "You'll be safe with me."

Simon chuckled again, shaking his head, "No way," he replied firmly. "Do you think I'm an idiot? If I come with you, I'm walking right into a trap."

He folded his arms over. For some reason he wasn't scared anymore. Not of Roger anyway. If he wanted to kill him, he could've done it already. Of course, that didn't mean he was willingly going to go with him. He could be walking right into a trap.

"Like you said: we have everything," he recalled. "Why would I trap you?"

"To lure Ralph out!" he propelled. "Only a pyromaniac would set a whole island on fire. So what I think is you are going to trap me at Castle rock so Ralph will be forced to come out of hiding!"

Simon paused straight after. He had only just realised that the plan had failed and that's why Ralph was in hiding. He could feel his cheeks ripen up, his head boiled against the soft heat of the jungle air. He felt guilty, he shouldn't have let Ralph go alone, or at all. It was too risky.

Roger shook his head playfully, "Oh Simon, my my you are quite clever," he was smirking now, his hands collectively looped back behind his back. "But are you really insinuating that I would do that?"

Simon backed up a little, "Yes," he said audibly, looking over his shoulder, scanning for the nearest exit. Whatever Roger's twisted intentions were, he had to get out. Run as far as he could away from him in hopes to find Ralph in a sweet rendezvous.

He cocked his head back round only to see Roger staring back at him, the distance between them next to nothing. He could hear his breaths inhale and exhale slowly and calmly, his face inches from his. Simon could feel the sweat puddle in his hands, his back tense. And for that moment, he couldn't move. It was as if he were paralyzed from the neck down; he couldn't move.

Roger lent over his ear, "I wouldn't do that to you," he whispered almost enticingly. He seized both of his shoulders, easing back to face him properly.

Simon was baffled. Beyond confused. Terrified too. He had so many questions...

Simon stifled his back and finally managed to move and escape his tight grasps, ducking under him.

"I don't know what your problem is- but I'm never coming with you!" he said stolidly. "I only have Ralph left," he mumbled heartily. He clenched his fists in determination, finding Ralph was all that mattered. "And besides, I don't hang with sinners."

He turned to leave, but Roger seized his wrist. He quickly tugged and pulled but he held on tightly. "Are you forgetting what we had?"

Simon looked at him blankly, trying even harder to slip through his hold on him. He had to get away. There was no time to remember the bitter past, after all it was just a mistake.

"Stop pulling," Roger warned harshly. "You may be able to pretend it never happened- but I won't."

Simon slowly stopped tugging. He hadn't forgotten. Not entirely at least.

"We were together," the black haired boy recalled.

Simon heaved a sigh, tilting his head down to pretend-examine the floor. He couldn't face him. His father was a pastor and for years had preached and drilled it into his head that homosexuality was a sin. Did he believe it was? Absolutely not. But as the pastor's son, it was almost vital he lock that mindset. Not just because it was illegal to have relations with the same gender, but because _he_ was the pastor's son. It would've tarnished their reputation, brought shame and dishonour to their family till the end of time.

Roger and him had been playmates from a young age as their parents were very close friends. They grew up together. They did eventually find a deeper connection and just as Roger claimed: they _were_ a _couple._ But every second with Roger felt like a ticking time bomb. One day someone would catch them and it would be over for the both of them. So after a painful year of dating, Simon ended it.

He didn't really see Roger after that. He joined Merridew's cult like clan and began to down spiral. From then on, he just alluded to himself that it never even happened. He was sure Roger had forgotten too.

"That was a long time ago."

Roger looked angry, his expression had shifted darkly. "Doesn't matter, I loved you!" he suddenly blurted. "I still do."

Simon gasped internally, just hearing him say it slipped past him. Even if it were true, it didn't excuse all the horrific things he had done. He had beaten an innocent boy to _death,_ tortured many of the boys on the island and been straight up brutal to everyone who stood in his way.

"You have no idea what it means to actually love another person!" he spat. "Because when you do- you would rather die than hurt them!"

Roger looked hurt, but his expression didn't change. He kept a straight face. "I've never hurt you."

"But you have!" Simon pushed his hands forward, shoving Roger backwards. "Maybe not directly, but you've hurt the others!"

He said nothing.

"Don't you care?" he questioned feebly. "You've hurt so many people! And yes- maybe we had something once, but that can never happen again..." he sniffled, he knew he was crying. Somehow after all Roger had done, he still remembered the good times.

Roger extended his arm out, but Simon ignored him, blankly walking past him.

He left this time, wiping the tears from his eyes as he ran quickly through the jungle. Roger didn't stop him, nor did he call after him. Maybe he finally had enough. Gave up for once.

He emerged from the jungle feeling empty. The sun had tucked behind a cloud and the sky was colourless.

He made the right decision. Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> see you next time.


	7. Tell me how it's suppose to end

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Sam is determined that Roger is going to hurt Simon, Ralph explains to him the real reason why the island is divided in two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading and giving feedback.  
> Keeping a consistent story going with flashbacks and all that stuff is not as easy as it looks, so I appreciate the patience when waiting for an update :)  
> Any questions you can leave at the end of the chapter. Don't ask about future story plans though because I have no idea.

Chapter 7: Tell me how it's suppose to end

**Present day - 12:00PM, May 11th 1967**

Ralph fumbled around with his hands with his legs crossed over one another, sat on the dried up fields on the edge of camp. Sam was next to him too, hands clamped together awkwardly as the wind swept past them carelessly.

"So if I'm getting this right..." Sam innocently broke the ice, rubbing his hands together. "Roger and Simon were very close friends?" he said with hesitation, gulping on the word _friends._ Of course, he had every right to be skeptical. Though Sam went to the same school as all of them, he joined at a much later period and therefore would've been none the wiser of their _friendship._

"Yea," he replied. And yes, that was only half the truth. But Simon was counting on him and he couldn't betray him by telling Sam the whole truth.

He could feel Sam breathing heavily beside him, most likely out of confusion. Ralph tried to busy himself as the awkward silence was insufferable.

"They were _actually_ friends?" Sam repeated sarky in disbelief.

"Yea," he lied.

Simon and Roger weren't just friends. Oh no, they were an item at one point. He didn't know for how long since Simon didn't specify, but it sounded like they were a couple for at least a year. Yes, they were a couple despite Simon being the son of the pastor. What worsened matters is they all attended a prestigious private school which allowed no room for mistakes- expectations were very high. If you were found out to be gay, you might as well move towns. So it was no surprise that Simon didn't tell anyone about their controversial relationship, not even his friends.

However, one night when he had anxiously confided in Simon about his sexuality, Simon exchanged back his own experiences. Everything had almost burst like a balloon, spooled over like an overflowing sink. It was pleasant and reassuring to hear Simon support him, though Simon's own story had him reeling. Beyond flabbergasted at the narrative between Roger and Simon. He would go as far to say he was even a little sick with rage that out of all people, Simon had been tangled with Roger. Of course, he wasn't of course resenting Simon.

"How could he be friends with him?" exclaimed Sam curiously. "I thought Simon hated him!" Even Ralph didn't know the definite answer to his question.

"Well they grew up together," he stated assuredly. "From nursery age I think- because their parents were friends."

Sam looked unconvinced, raising a brow, "But Roger hates everyone. Why would Simon continue to make the effort to be friends with someone like that?" he was glaring strongly at him now, interrogatively.

Ralph fingered the blades of withered grass beside his knees, picking at them tentatively. "Maybe Simon saw something that others didn't?" he suggested faintly, clearing his throat. "Maybe Roger is different around him?" he answered unsure.

"Still!" he emphasised. "People like Roger, they can't be trusted," Sam spat hastily. "They lure you in with charm and then strike when you're most vulnerable!" he declared noisily. Ralph's shoulders flinched absentmindedly, an unsavory taste lingering on his tongue. Sam was without a doubt right about Roger's dark and malign tendencies, but the way he declared so vulgarly left him raw. He related to Simon, he knew he did. And for that he couldn't judge him for sticking with Roger. Because he too was irretrievably close with someone who received a bad rep- who was feared by most.

Jack Merridew.

For as long as he could remember, Merridew had been awful and bratty to the majority of everyone. Especially to anyone below him in social status. Despite Merridew being an arrogant pig with little to no care for others, Ralph found himself inextricably linked to him. And perhaps that was one of his greatest mistakes to become entangled with someone who showed signs of being a sociopath, but he couldn't help it. Merridew was intriguing to say the least which caught Ralph's attention, but most of all he was wrongly accused of being some selfish _beast._ Upon spending time with him, he found Merridew to have a soft side to him. Under all the sheath of rage and arrogance was a loving, caring sheet. Ralph was able to knock Merridew's defensive walls down and so saw the side no one else did. He could only assume it was the same with Simon and Roger, though he couldn't be certain.

"I mean even if they _are friends_ ," Sam decided loosely, "That doesn't mean Simon is automatically safe, does it?" he asked rhetorically, sprinting to his next question. "Roger could turn on him!" Ralph raised his hand in interjection. "As I said, they pretend to be your friend, but only for _their_ benefit. As soon as you are no longer useful to them, they drop you like a sack of potatoes!" he exclaimed nervously. Ralph nearly chortled at the potato remark, but remained complacent, coughing to deflect the need to laugh.

"I can't be sure," Ralph admitted reluctantly, even knowing it would stir the pot. "But I don't think Roger would hurt him. Despite him being extremely sadistic and cruel... and mean to everyone," Ralph divulged, enunciating very carefully. "Roger is loyal. You won't remember this, but in school Roger was really overprotective of Simon. For years," he declared truthfully.

Sam still remained dubious, biting his lip. "But how can we be sure?" he quizzed tentatively. "Being friends with someone like that is a death wish."

"I was very close with Merridew," Ralph blatantly declared. He nearly gasped, his throat raw and dry.

Sam shook his head with a slight smile on his face. "I know, Ralph," he giggled a little. Ralph felt oddly confused. Why would Sam be OK with that, but opposed to Simon and Roger.

"You pretended to hate eachother," he chuckled lightly. "But sometimes at night, me and Eric would see you with him." Ralph gulped nervously. He was praying he didn't see anything like _that._

"Don't worry," he giggled lightly. "I won't judge." But Ralph felt slightly irritated. Not that he was unhappy that Sam seemed unbothered, but it was as though he was singling out Simon.

"Then why is it a shock that Simon is friends with Roger?" Ralph retorted rather irritably. "I get it, Roger is a bloody sadistic maniac, but you don't like Merridew either. So why are you singling out Simon?" he pressed forward hotly. Sam folded his arms nervously.

"I'm worried for him," Sam admitted heartily, his eyes raw. Ralph felt a little barred by this remark. "Thing is you make Merridew happy, you've changed him. He used to be really bossy and obsessed with being leader and all, but ever since you became friends with him, he's been nicer to everyone," he concluded. Ralph felt a tinge of happiness pierce his skin, his cheeks feeling a little hot. Did he really change Merridew? "But Roger is still Roger. _Everyone_ is scared of him!" he enunciated slowly, elongating the word _everyone_ as though to strain the fact that the fear of Roger is collective.

"Well right now, it isn't Roger we should be concerned about," Ralph assured him strongly. Sam gave a look of confusion so Ralph quickly clarified. "I mean we should be, but its not our main concern."

"What do you mean?" he retaliated heatedly. "Simon went after him! What if Roger is hurting Simon?" he protested.

"Me and Jack-" he paused, his chest closing in rapidly. His screwed up his hands, the sweat lathering up like soap. "The island is divided in two because something happened between us," he spluttered, rolling over his words.

"Wait, is that why he and his hunters trashed the camp?" he asked frantically. "Because you two had a _falling out_?" his tone was superficial and sullen.

He nodded ashamedly, his throat burning bitterly. He tried to take a deep breath, compose himself. He couldn't show weakness, couldn't show he was upset. Sam was counting on him. But he couldn't help it. His eyes began to sting abruptly, his hands sweating profusely, his mouth parched dry and tasteless. Even one mention of their _falling out_ strung along a thread of guilt and remorse.

He just wanted everything to be OK again. He wanted things to go back to when they were two fools in love; when things were simple. Well, not simple but simpler. He would do anything to take back everything that happened that night.

"Don't blame him, please," Ralph pleaded dryly, his hands trembling. "This is _my_ fault." Sam said nothing but was staring at him with a look of befuddlement.

Ralph gestured his hands up, "I messed up," he admitted clearly. "But I..." he paused, his words drifting silently.

He had avoided speaking to Merridew for the past few days. Mostly because he was rippled with self doubt, pride and fear. He still wasn't one hundred percent confident with himself, nor was he willing to talk about their argument. He could admit he was the problem with no hesitation, but he wasn't ready to cross the bridge in which he would finally rendezvous with Merridew. And he couldn't explain why. He wanted nothing more than for things to return as they were. He couldn't put his finger on it, something about it made his spine tingle sorely at the thought. Was it the fear of his pleasant excursion going horribly wrong? Or was it the inevitable fear of rejection? What if Merridew discarded his apology and things remained ruptured?

"You what?" said Sam.

"I messed up, but I want to fix things," he replied with haste. The truth is, he didn't know _how_ to fix things. And that's what terrified him. This wasn't a little quarrel where you argue over a difference of opinion, this was a much more deep rooted problem that couldn't be solved with a _sorry_ or a _Forgive me?_ He slumped his head into his hands feeling sludgy and shattered. Even if Jack forgave him, nothing would ever be the same again; there would still remain the underlying tension of things hadn't changed between now and a few days ago. He wasn't ready to tell the whole island his sexual identity. Especially not when if things turned sour, he couldn't exactly go anywhere. As he looked up, his eyes fuzzy, he briefly glanced at Sam who was pouting at him now. He looked concerned.

"Well what happened?" Sam questioned rather forwardly. Ralph pursed his lips. "Couldn't you have just made up? You know like _normal_ people after an argument," Ralph darted his eyes away. This wasn't a _normal_ argument.

"We need to go after Simon," Ralph redirected the conversation. "That way we can make sure he's alright and deal with Roger at the same time," he shakily suggested. Though he hated the idea of pursuing Roger, he had to make sure Simon was OK. Even if him and Roger were close once, he couldn't risk it.

"Ralph why are you avoiding the question?" he quipped. "I agree we should go find Simon, but you didn't seem worried about Roger like five seconds ago," he remarked. Ralph bit his lip. "Can't you two make up so we can stop this whole weird charade?"

**Thursday 9th May 1967 - 9PM**

_Ralph dashed away in almost a flash of lightning, swiping carelessly through the jungle with the leaves and tree branches hitting sharply against his bare skin. He kept running. Leaping over roots, ducking under thick branches, nearly tripping over stones. He kept running. He missed him already. But kept sprinting, faster and quicker with his feet burning against the rough texture of the ground. He didn't know how long he had been running for. For all he knew, he could've been running in circles because the more he scanned his surroundings, the more he could swear he had seen the same set of trees at least five times._

_And before he knew it he was tumbling down a grassy hill, his arms frolicking in all different directions, his head spinning rapidly until he slammed to a close. His legs dangling over his head, he pushed himself forward to get onto his back. He wanted to get up and keep running, but his head was splitting open and everything around him was looking blurry and disorientated. He slowly closed his eyes and reopened them. Then gradually, he sat himself up and allowed his head to return to its normal state. He could hear Jack calling faintly after him in the distance, he had to get going._

_He tried to get up, but he couldn't stand properly. His legs were aching sorely after running miles and then idiotically rolling down a hill, whilst getting grass all over his body and in his hair. He looked briefly beside him, his breathes audible. He had ended up near the edge of a small cliff side. It wasn't too far down, so if needed he could lower himself down to get away. His thoughts disrupted, he felt a firm hand against his shoulder._

_"Ralph," Merridew appeared in front of him, firmly looking down at him almost in disapproval._

_Ralph said nothing. It was for the best. He hated seeing Jack look so hollow and empty, but it was all to protect him. If anyone found out about them, it would be suicide. And if his parents or his town in general ever found out, he would most likely be thrown head first into some rotten, diseased prison for the mentally insane and forced to get conversion electroshock therapy._

_He wouldn't want that for Jack._

_"Ralph listen to me," he commanded bluntly, his voice bratty with reason. Ralph kept his head down. Facing him would only make things one hundred times worse, he would be flooded with guilt. Even without facing him, he felt like he was rifling with his conscience, so he couldn't bare to take the risk. His hands were cold but when he palmed his head, it felt warm like a fever-dew._

_"I don't love you!" is what he had painfully declared so readily and proudly. He didn't mean it. Of course he didn't. His head had been piling with dangerous and unhealthy thoughts about his family's reaction and that had tipped him over the edge. The straw that broke the camels back. He didn't mean it, but he didn't want to see Jack towed away by the loony wardens. And he certainly didn't want to disappoint his own family._

_"Ralph," Merridew had his hand firmly gripped under his chin now, aggressively pulling it upwards. It hurt._

_"Jack stop, ow," he tried to brush his hands away._

_"Oh so now you listen," he tutted, inhaling noticeably. "Typical," he dropped his chin zealously, dragging his nails down. Ralph quickly rubbed his hand along his chin. It throbbed a little. "Are we on a first name basis? From now on I think I'd rather you address me properly," he declared. Another inhale. "I demand that much respect, no?" Ralph darted his eyes away, besotted with tending to his chin._

_"Don't be such a prissy, I barely touched you," Merridew said with such spite, such raw assurance that left Ralph exposed._

_Ralph steadied himself, clambering off the ground. "Look..." he began gently._

_"Shut up." Ralph pursed his lips, feeling a little anxious. "You don't get to talk," he could hear Merridew's voice break, the sheer pain in his vocal cords._

_Ralph put his fingers to his mouth and nibbled down at his nails. He didn't want to argue with him, but they couldn't stay together. They would never be accepted and living in secrecy is tiring and enduring. The only idea that came to mind was to make things worse. Merridew wasn't going to budge, wasn't going to let the matter rest. The only way to get him away would be to make things go from bad to worse. That way Merridew wouldn't want to be with him. He had to hold back the tears, breath deeply and keep his composure._

_It would hurt._

_But he could only hope that one day they could be together again. Maybe on the dark side, or if the stars bloody aligned they could be together. His only hope left, the only thing he could cling to._

_"Jack-"_

_"What did I say about using my first name, it's Merridew to you," he demanded malignantly. "You must be an idiot," he retorted. But Ralph didn't know how to react. Merridew clasped his hands together, sliding them down his face in rancour._

_"What even was that back there?" Merridew pressed a harsh finger onto Ralph's chest, his eyes lighting up like fire. "Huh!"_

_Again Ralph stood silently, his eyes locked to Merridew's._

_"Did you really mean that?" he lowered his voice slightly. "Did you really mean to say you don't love me?"_

_Ralph felt sick, his body shaking uncontrollably. Merridew seized his shoulder's suddenly, "What's wrong, why are you shaking?" his tone was harsh with repent, his grip filled with rage._

_Ralph bit his lip hard, repressing the urge to say anything. He couldn't go back now, he had to stick with the plan, make him not want to be with him. Before Jack could press another finger onto him, he plucked his hand from his shoulder, swatting them away in bitter remorse._

_"What's gotten into you?" he quizzed bitterly, raising his voice. "Is this about what I said, about telling the others about us?" he persisted. "S'not even a big deal."_

_"It is," he finally said lowly._

_"How so?" Merridew replies in sullen retaliation._

_Ralph let out a hiss of annoyance, "Are you batty?" he questioned. "We are sinning! If anyone found out, we would be killed."_

_"By a bunch of school boys?" he chortled, folding his arms in retort._

_Ralph nudged his arm into him roughly, "This isn't a time to joke," he warned firmly. "If the other boys knew, they'd hunt us down."_

_"I wouldn't let them."_

_Ralph distanced himself from Merridew, "I can't."_

_Merridew was right behind him, his soft hand gripped onto his shoulder. Gentle breaths brushing against his neck._

_"We don't have to tell them yet," he said gruffly. "If you really don't want to."_

_But Ralph couldn't agree. That was only a temporary solution, eventually they would be found out either way. And he couldn't do that to Jack, he couldn't lead him on, only to disappoint him once again. Their relationship could never work._

_"I can't."_

_Merridew tutted audibly, swinging him around. Their eyes met and Ralph felt high with elation. "Look I hate all the soppy romantic stuff," he retorted, amused, laying an arm onto Ralph's shoulder. "I really do. You were always the romantic one." Ralph hunched his shoulders from the prick of Jack's soft touch, a slight pang of embarrassment settling in._

_"And I hated stargazing," he heatedly declared. Ralph felt a little disheartened but stayed neutral. "It was sooo boring and mushy," he continued, grabbing Ralph's hands into his. "But I did it to make you happy. And even listened to your soppy love poems," Ralph smiled awkwardly. "And you know what, I grew to like stargazing. And even found your sickly love poems tolerable. What mattered I suppose was spending time with you."_

_He felt conflicted, his eyes sore and raw. He knew he was about to throw away all of his happiness in a matter of minutes. And for what? To please his family and society. Yes. That's what it was to do. To please society. But most of all, to protect Jack._

_"Heh," Merridew chortled, amused it seemed, pulling a piece of paper from his side pocket of his ripped trousers. "I think this is one," He proceeded to open it, Ralph feeling his chest tighten, his mouth dry out significantly._

_He opened the sheet of paper, gazing down smugly at it. Ralph gulped, his hands clamming up._

_"Remember how we found eachother, remember how we fell in love. I attended your feast, assuming the worst when push came to shove. You sat next to me with confidence, our legs dangling over the lagoon, but what I didn't expect was that my hand would search for yours in the darkened room."_

_Ralph knew he was blushing, but he didn't let it bother him. What he was much more embarrassed by was the soppy words he had wrote._

_"You kept it..?" he giggled, embarrassed._

_Merridew folded it back up, pocketing it. "Yeah," he quipped, smirking at him. "Surprised, golden boy?"_

_Ralph laughed in defense, "No of course not," he lied. "It's just... I thought you hated my poetry."_

_"Oh I did," he admitted bluntly. "It was all soppy and romantic, which was never my forte. But you wrote like ten a day, so I had to get used to it."_

_Ralph nudged him playfully, "Hey, I didn't write ten a day!" he declared defensively. "That's an over exaggeration."_

_"Pretty sure I have at least a hundred poems, all piled on top of eachother back at Castle rock."_

_"More like ten. I'm not that good at writing."_

_Merridew leaned in, pecking a kiss on his cheek. "You're right," he crooned slyly. "Though It shows what an infatuation you have with me," he muttered like a mantra, teasing yet deliciously arousing. Ralph shivered at his tone of voice, gulped voicelessly with his thighs throbbing._

_"Don't flatter yourself," Ralph remarked playfully, leaving Merridew seemingly reeling. Ralph bit his lip, a sudden wave of nausea passing him over. Here he was pretending that everything was fine._

_The night brought a chill, harsh winds knifing against his face, cold air erupting goosebumps up his arms and legs. This was it. The moment he would cut ties with the only person he had ever loved. And it hurt. It rippled like daggers inside his throat merely imagining a life without him. But it needed to be done. Jack was smiling childishly, a hand snaking up his back._

_His touch was gentle and tender and warm. The mere feeling of being near him elated his mood, brushed away every fear resting on his shoulders. Jack placed a careful hand on his cheek, caressing it gingerly. Reluctantly, Ralph enveloped his fingers through Jack's and gently pulled his hand off his cheek. It stung. Merridew was staring at him, puzzled._

_Ralph heaved in a breath._

_"I don't love you."_

_And this time there were no perpetuating voices strangling his thoughts. His head-space was clear. There was no rage present in his tone of voice. His words concisely clarified, with no confusion or miscommunication._

_"What?" Merridew's face fell, his complexion sickly pale._

_"I don't love you. Not anymore." He declared as his initial start up. He didn't know if he sounded convincing because his thoughts were too focused on Jack, but he knew things would turn sour after this. And he needed to be prepared for all outcomes._

_"You're joking," Merridew retorted sourly, his face remaining stoic and unreadable._

_"I'm not."_

_Merridew wiped a hand across his mouth, his legs tapping against the ground._

_"I don't-" he muttered viciously. "We just-" he began to pace, his hands constantly pressed over his mouth. "Your telling me," he began, his voice growing louder with each word. "You were lying to me this whole time?" his voice grew with fury, his eyes locked to his in anger._

_"N-no!" he stuttered, arms and legs trembling. "I did... just not anymore," his voice stung like a wasp, the poison dripping from his tongue._

_"For how long?"_

_"A few weeks," he quickly conjured._

_"Bloody brilliant," He retorted cynically, "So you decided that lying for the past two weeks was completely fine," he raised his voice, wagging a finger accusingly at him._

_"I just didn't want to hurt you..." Merridew furrowed his brows, clasping a hand over his eyes. He didn't say anything at first, but his expression was enough to guess what he was thinking._

_"Bullshit," Merridew declared accusingly, suddenly closing in on him. Their eyes interlocked, causing Ralph to feel suffocated and uneasy. Not that he feared Jack, but the look he was giving him was as spiteful as it could get. He jabbed a finger onto his chest, pushing him backwards. "You lying piece of shit." Ralph felt his heart drop, his ankles fumbling over each other as he staggered backwards._

_"Just a few hours ago we were having sex!" He retorted with indignation "Was that all a lie too?"_

_Ralph tried to hush him, petrified of the chance that someone could be listening in. After all they weren't confined to the safe walls of Castle rock, they were out in the open where anyone could be passing by._

_"Jack please!" he hushed in a low voice. "Someone will hear us!"_

_Merridew shoved him backwards mercilessly, "Who fucking cares at this point?" he closed the gap, shoving him harder this time. Ralph staggered backwards, aware of the cliff edge near them. "I refuse to believe that you would've had sex with me if you didn't even like me." Ralph felt his heart pound louder, panicking. What excuse could he use?_

_"Uh-" he stumbled backwards, sweat dripping down his temple._

_Merridew shoved him again with harsher force this time, "Answer me!"_

_Ralph could feel his arm shiver with sickness, still tightly gripping hold of Merridew. He couldn't breathe. As he looked closer, he could see Jack was crying. He didn't show it however, but Ralph could visibly see the tears trickling down his pale cheeks. His own guilt ripped and toiled inside proving he wasn't ready to let go of him._

_But he had to._

_"For fucks sake," he cursed, incredulously staring at him. "Answer me, Jones!" Ralph gulped severely, Merridew had never used his surname before. The last time he recalled him doing that was in school. And that was upon their first meeting. Merridew always demanded he be referred to by his surname and preferred calling Ralph by his first. He asked him about it once, but his answer was vague. Ralph assumed it was to give Jack authority status. "Merridew" sounds much more formal._

_Ralph felt his heart splatter. Now Merridew was referring to him as Jones which he only used to spite him. He felt sick, like everything was falling apart._

_Ralph frenzied about, his eyes darting in various directions. Merridew was pressed up against his skin a little too closely, his icy breaths stapling against his eyes. Ralph couldn't take it. There was no doubt that someone would've heard this whole malarkey, and it would be their luck for it to be Roger._

_"Fuck you, Ralph," Merridew retorted malignantly, spitting the words out one by one. Ralph sneered, heatedly churned by his remarks._

_He turned the tables, edging them closer to the cliff. "You always were a bloody jerk!" he retorted bitterly, rage lingering nearby. Merridew looked behind his shoulder and gasped in realization. "Maybe just get it into your head that I don't want to be with a tyrant! A beast that's what you are!" he bellowed, hissing through his teeth in agony._

_"Wait, Ralph-" Jack gasped nervously, recognising they were inches away from the cliff edge. Ralph bolted his fist forward in all rage, purely to shut him up._

_And then Merridew fell._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love you all, thank you for reading.  
> Again, this story will be completed.  
> Ta ta


	8. To Castle rock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ralph and Simon head off to Castle rock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've read this far into my story, thank you very much. Love you all and happy reading :)

Chapter 8: To Castle rock

**Present day - 1PM, Saturday 11th May 1967**

Ralph sealed his lips in heavy grief, craving a cigarette. He wasn't even a smoker, despised the taste of them in fact, but at this point he would do anything to make the pain vanish. He had told Sam everything about that night. And by everything, he only digressed the bare bones. He didn't tell Sam the more vulgar details that they were dating or having sex or anything raw. However, he managed to explain the argument in brief terms and even plucked up the courage to recite the part where he shoved Merridew off a bloody cliff.

Nothing after that however; just that he returned to camp in guilt. It felt a little disingenuous to lie so blatantly when Sam had been nothing but supportive the whole time, but he was willing to do whatever it took to sustain his secret.

"You pushed him off a cliff?" Sam squawked irritably, despite Ralph having clarified that many times. "You pushed him _off a cliff!"_ he repeated melodramatically. Ralph winced in penitence, brooding over that god awful moment.

He hated himself over and over for it, felt a strong repugnance for his actions as it wasn't like he intended for it to escalate the way it did. At first, he just wanted to cut ties with Merridew because he couldn't fathom the thought of anyone discovering their secret, other than Simon of course. It wasn't even himself he was worried about, it was the inevitable fear of something awful happening to Merridew because of their foolishness.

Therefore, he was so pent up with anger, so enveloped in fear and worry that things managed to spiral. Merridew was spouting their love life out into the open air with the chance of anyone listening in in pure scrutiny and it drove him mad. He was terrified that the wrong person would hear. He looked down at his hands in repulsion, gripping them hard. But this was his fault nonetheless. He still was the one who ruined everything, and he would have to be the one to fix it. Still, he didn't know how.

"I didn't mean to," he declared sullenly, his voice high pitched. "We were just on the edge of the cliff and he was angering me like the bloody swine he is- and I just got so mad I pushed him," he paused, his throat dry.

Sam gave him a slightly disconcerted look before continuing with the curious questionnaire. Ralph couldn't lie, he felt a little pressed with Sam exposed to his secrets, like a fish out of water. That suffocating feeling of vulnerability where one wrong slip up could result in being discovered and killed. In paranoia, he tried to analyse Sam, but his face was lifeless, the colour drained from his flushed cheeks.

"This is bad, Ralph," the young boy said raspy with a quiver in his voice. Ralph tried to put a hand on Sam's shoulder for reassurance but Sam batted it away. "This is _really really_ bad," he repeated, sounding breathless. "Merridew will take this as an attack like he did the other day!" Ralph gulped tightly, his mouth dry like the Sahara. "He's going to send his hunters after us or-or something," he blathered on. "I just don't get it, Merridew was fine the other day, we had a meeting about recruiting new hunters and-and everything seemed fine!"

"I don't know..." Ralph admitted drearily.

"I didn't see you at the meeting mind you," said Sam. "Were you hiding? Because you _had a falling out_?" He questioned breathy. Ralph felt a little perturbed with Sam interrogating him like this, but he remained neutral. It wasn't Sam's fault for being curious. "I just thought you were tired of Merridew, you know because of how self centered he can be, and thought maybe you just didn't want to come to the meeting," an inhale, then a pause. Sam was shaking. "But you never miss a meeting! I mean not that I know of anyway. So after it ended, Simon said he would go look for you."

"Well I actually found him in the end," Ralph concluded. Sam looked interested, craning his neck inwards to listen. Ralph heaved a sigh. "After I went back to camp I slept for the night. The next day, I decided to hide," he paused, his eyes sore. "I couldn't face him after what I had done," which was half the truth. "I trusted Simon so I went to go to our private campsite to look for him," he recalled. "And I did. That's when we went to go back to camp but it was trashed. And you know the rest."

Sam nodded, looking rather disgruntled. "Are we really in danger?" he inquired timidly. "Will he really hurt Eric... ?" Ralph seized his shoulders, almost forgetting about the other boys kidnapping. All this time he was too busy fussing over how to fix his and Merridew's desperate _situation_ and had completely disregarded how Sam must be feeling. Merridew and his hunters hadn't only trashed the camp, they had kidnapped Eric and some little uns.

Everything was a mess. And he'd blindly forgotten about the others who have been abducted even though that was the reason he was going to infiltrate Castle rock. And the penultimate reason as to why Simon went after Roger, because Ralph had suggested going alone to fix the whole debacle which clearly Simon didn't approve of because next thing he knew Simon was bolting across the camp after Roger.

Not that he could be certain that Simon wasn't just going after Roger, but it seemed fair to assume. Sam wiggled his arms around Ralph in a close knit hug. Ralph patted his head in reassurance, though he could hear quiet sniffles escaping out of Sam's mouth, whimpers and sobs. He made sure to embrace the younger boy as best as he could, because who else would.

"Eric will be fine..." he declared with confidence, though deep down he couldn't count on that assumption, there was a slither of malice that had weaved around his optimism. "Jack wouldn't hurt him..." he prayed.

Sam looked up at him with puppy-like eyes. "You promise?" he whimpered, burying his head back into his chest. Ralph said nothing, biting back his tongue. He couldn't promise.

"I think everything will be OK in the end..." he said hopefully, though he was doubtful.

"I get it Ralph..." he sniffled. "You can't promise."

"It's not that-"

"No I get it," another sniff, Sam lifted his head up. "Merridew has trashed the camp and kidnapped the others... we can't be sure if he'll spare them," he let out a cry, his words wobbling.

"I know things are bad right now," said Ralph woefully. "But I'm sure that Jack won't hurt anyone," he paused, taking a breath. Sam looked skeptical. "See, I wondered why he would kidnap the others. At first I thought it would be to hurt them, but that would make no sense because he wouldn't gain anything out of it," he enunciated calmly, trying to cheer the younger boy up. "I think instead he wants to lure me to Castle rock. He knows that I care about the others and is using his to his advantage."

Sam sniffed again, wiping his nose. "Lure you to Castle rock?" he echoed skeptically. "But why?" he persisted curiously. "He could easily get you here. He has an army!" he protested loudly.

"I don't know," he admitted blatantly. "When you and Simon were wittering on about invading Castle rock, I had one idea but I can't be sure," but Sam looked intrigued, Ralph proceeded. "Well Castle rock is enclosed, easier to trap me. Or I thought that maybe Jack wanted to collect everyone together and then denounce me in front of everyone." his palms were sweating, his head thumping vigorously. The mere thought sent him spiraling. If his suspicions were true, Merridew would tell everyone _everything_ , and not just the parts where he shoved him off a cliff- it would include their relationship.

But of course Merridew wouldn't implicate himself, he would imply Ralph to be the instigator, the sinner. While in the process, making sure to announce to everyone that it was utterly one sided.

_"Ralph is a sinner!" Merridew would chant in anger. "He tried to kiss me! Let's hunt him down!"_

He could picture it vividly, like a visual premonition.

"So what do we do?" Sam asked innocently. "If Merridew traps you, it'll all be over. And if he tells everyone, everyone will think you're the bad guy and everyone will turn on you," he spat in panic. Ralph clenched his hands.

"We have to go to Castle rock," stated Ralph calmly. "There's nothing left we can do."

"But what about Merridew?"

Ralph shrugged hopelessly. "Like I said before: It's a death wish," he sighed, furrowing his brows. "But there's nothing else we _can_ do. Simon's gone, Eric and the little uns have been taken and we're all alone..." he trailed pessimistically. "It's the only thing left."

Sam looked up at him with hope in his eyes, "Surely Merridew could've told everyone about you already, right?" he suggested helpfully, half smiling. "But he clearly hasn't, so why?"

"A public defamation Sam," he concluded sullenly. "He wants me to be there when he tells everyone that I'm the _bad_ guy, wants everyone to go against me," he explained, seething painfully through his teeth. He could see the hope fade from Sam's eyes, but he couldn't bare luring him in with false hope. Eventually, him and Merridew would reunite and when that happens everything would be over. For good.

"What do we do?" the younger boy questioned again timidly, his tone colourless. Ralph placed a hand on his shoulder with little certainty.

"We have to go to Castle rock, I told you," he repeated diffidently, his arms trembling. "I won't pretend it isn't risky- because we both know it will most likely end horribly," he paused, realising how cynical he was sounding by the look in Sam's eyes. "But if we go, we have a chance of rescuing Eric and the others... and hopefully find Simon too."

Sam heaved a sigh before slowly nodding.

**1:30 PM**

Ralph bolted through the jungle with a great determination oscillating inside. Once they made it to the outskirts of that god forsaken _castle_ , there would be no turning back. The heat from above was unbearable: the sun beating down onto Ralph's pale skin, the jungle ground piping hot under every footstep and the lack of wind strangled the oxygen from the air. Ralph wiped an arm across his forehead to wipe the sweat off, widening his eyes to pay close attention to the road ahead.

It wasn't that he didn't know his way to Castle rock, he and Jack had traveled there many many times to be alone. But with the sweltering heat, it almost tripped his vision a little. Ralph quickly checked behind him to make sure Sam was still following him: he was. From the looks of it, he was as dehydrated as him.

"Ralph how much further...?" he groaned dryly. Ralph bit his lip.

"Not too much longer."

Sam stopped suddenly, doubling over in exhaustion. Ralph stopped too, slumping over for a breath. "Why didn't we take water... we'll never have the energy to rescue the others if we die of thirst."

"Just what would we carry water in?" he retaliated sarcastically. "A leaf? Our hands?" he suggested humorously. Sam laughed dryly, panting melodramatically.

"This isn't a time to joke when we're going to die of thirst!" he enunciated, snickering a little under his breath.

"Well you were the one to ask a stupid question," he retorted a little bitterly. Sam looked abased, slowly leaning upwards. "Anyway I think there's a river around here, so we can drink there," he quickly suggested.

Sam quickly perked up, "Well what are we waiting for then, let's go!" he shouted, running on ahead.

**1:50 PM**

After replenishing their thirst they were back on track to Castle rock. And Ralph knew they were close because of the familiar landscaping. The large hills, the scattered trees, the wilted flowers. But most of all it was a sense to him, a memory almost. The countless hours and nights spent here had made him accustomed to the nostalgia.

Nights spent fooling around with Merridew playing hide and seek. He could almost giggle at it really. Merridew was completely disturbed by the idea of playing such a _kid's game_. But as soon as they played it, his attitudes altered drastically, and for that Ralph was relieved. Because even though it was a _kid's game_ , it had a sentimental feeling to it, a taste of childhood. Besides, hiding from Merridew was a thrill because there were so many good hiding spots in Castle rock and in the surrounding area. And since they were required to take charge of the island most of the time, it felt nice to take a step back from responsibility.

He bit his lip in recalling the intimate nights. They were times he would never forget, but were decaying because they were sinful actions. Though he would love to be able to look at them with confidence, he couldn't because he felt disgusted and ashamed that it resulted in such agony in the aftermath- broke them apart.

It wasn't fair.

He missed spending time with him, missed everything about him. Even with the confirmation that Merridew would most likely suss him out to the others and compel them to turn on him, he couldn't hate him. For god's sake he loved the bastard and would try anything to fix what he had broken even if everyone turned on him. He owed that much to Merridew.

Ralph glanced to his left, scanning the twisted oak tree beside him. Castle rock was drawing near. Sam was trailing behind him, quiet as a mouse as per expected.

"You don't have to come in if you don't want to, Sam," he offered kindly, stopping to check on him. Sam straightened his back. "This is _my_ mess and I will fix it," he declaimed, emphasing the notion that it was his mess.

"No way," he countered breathlessly. "Like Simon said, it'd be too dangerous to go alone," he persisted dryly.

"What if you get hurt?" he prodded sympathetically. "It'd be my fault for letting you tag along."

"But safety in numbers!" he retaliated tenaciously. "If something happens to you, how will I know?" he quizzed. Ralph bit his lip stubbornly; he just couldn't risk Sam getting hurt because of him. "At least if we both go in, I can find Eric and the others, and you can deal with Merridew!" he chirped hopefully.

"But it's a trap remember?" Ralph confirmed unquestionably. "Jack wants to lure me in so he can publicly denounce me. S'ppose he'll make it seem like I pushed him off on purpose," he warned worriedly. "Everyone will turn on me."

"I know you said he was angering you, but what did he say to make you wanna push him off a cliff?" Sam jested jocularly. "That argument must've been pretty bad," he hiccuped a small laugh.

_"Just a few hours ago we were having sex!" He retorted with indignation "Was that all a lie too?"_

Ralph gulped feverishly. It was Merridew's indiscretion, his pure idiocy. He declared their love life at the top of his lungs like the bloody swine he is for all willing ears to hear. Soon enough, there became this boiling urge to shut him up, to quickly dispose of any evidence of their relationship. But he never meant to shove him off a cliff, he just wanted him to stop blurting out everything that could incriminate them. What annoyed him is, It wasn't like even like Merridew was an idiot, he too knew of the dangers of getting caught yet he was the one to start declaring their sinful behaviours.

Ralph couldn't blame him though, he had without warning declared something so awful to him. It was no wonder Merridew would question everything.

_"I don't love you."_

"It's not important," Ralph declared finally. "It was just something personal that Jack knew about me, a secret I didn't want getting out," he added nervously.

"Do I know the secret?" Sam questioned innocently, looking more than intrigued.

Ralph simply shook his head. "But it doesn't matter," he quickly said before Sam could ask. "We better get going."

**2:05PM**

They finally breached the outskirts of Castle rock, it's frightening structure ghostly in ruins. It smelt like death. The stone walls smothered in vines and mud, the ground barren, the flowers withered. Everything was in ruin. It was just as Ralph had remembered.

He quickly surveyed the area, surprised at the disquieted scene. There was no one guarding the entrance, no one patrolling the surrounding area, no hunter in site. He could feel his chest tighten with Sam tugging on his arm. There had to be some explanation, but he couldn't think of one. Why would Merridew leave Castle rock unattended to? Even if perhaps he had gone hunting and taken some of the boys with him, he would've without a doubt left some to keep watch. He darted his eyes in a frenzy, feeling very uneasy with the knowledge that they could be being watched right at this moment. Sam pulled on his arm again.

"Where is everyone?" he questioned meekly, his voice dry and squeaky.

"I don't know..." he replies faintly, feeling nauseous. He quickly darted his eyes around again, wary that they were stood in the wide open space with not a hunter in site.

Suddenly, Ralph heard a voice call from afar, a voice of distress it sounded like. He whipped round, assuming he would see Eric and the others, squirming from Merridew's brutal clutches.

But there was no one.

He heard the voice again, louder this time. Ralph's shoulders flinched automatically, his body quickly turning in a three sixty. "Sam did you hear that?" he piped apprehensively. "I swear I heard someone-"

"I heard it too," he quivered, clutching hold of Ralph's arm fearfully. "But there's no one here..."

"It sounded like Simon?" he concluded, unsure. "After all, he did chase Roger in this direction..." he suggested interchangeably, his throat parched.

"You really think it's Simon?" he quizzed feasibly, loosening the grip around his arm, detaching soon after. Sam took two strides ahead of him, "We have to go find him then! Who know's what horrible things Roger is doing to him!"

"Roger won't hurt Simon," he assured him calmly. "I told you that."

Sam tutted irritably under his breath, "Then how do you explain that cry for help?"

"I don't even know if it was Simon!" he admitted defensively, his nerves overpowering his tone of voice. "I just thought since he went this way..."

Sam pulled on his wrist, "Well we have to go check it out," he prodded forwardly. "If it is him, he can help us rescue the others!"

"Wait Sam," he hushed, lowering his voice. "Don't you find this a bit odd?" he questioned profusely. "That Jack would leave no one to keep watch? The place is deserted!" he hissed with verity; irrefutably.

"I _was_ the one who mentioned it you know," he replied quietly. "But clearly it's because they've gone hunting or something, right?" he spluttered anxiously, looking around in a panic. "I mean maybe Merridew has given up with this whole revenge thing..."

"Given up?" he scoffed, wittily. "Like that would ever happen."

"Well it doesn't matter," he shifted. "We have to go find Simon, if it is him."

Ralph brooded for a while, his eyes drifting back to the large structure of Castle rock. Of course he wanted to make sure Simon was OK, but he wanted so badly to finally rendezvous with Merridew. It hadn't been that long, but he missed him more than anything. And now he had the chance to reunite with him, to make things right, he couldn't possibly refuse such an opportunity. He stepped forward, the bone-chilling winds gliding knives against his skin. Despite the possibility of this being a trap, feeling the nostalgia melted his fears away.

All this time, he had repented everything he had put Merridew through, knew he had to make it up to him. He just didn't know how.

At first, he was wholly against telling him the truth, the irrefutable verity that had caused the argument to spiral. So he couldn't tell Merridew that he lied about not loving him. Merridew might not even believe him or possibly not forgive him regardless.

However now he was here, knees wobbling, the only thing on his mind was him. Yet despite his yearning, he still feared the road ahead. He didn't care if the boys hunted him, but he was still petrified for Merridew's safety. He would have no choice but to just take the fall.

Because he loved Jack.

And not even in a _school boy crush_ sort of way, he loved him unconditionally, wanted to marry him one day. And so he would do whatever it took to make it up to him, even if it was all for nothing, even if Merridew denied anything he had with him and still sent the other boys to hunt him down. He would still try in hope that it would work out in the end.

Sam was tapping his shoulder, "Ralph?"

Ralph quickly turned round, "Sorry, what?"

"Are you coming?" he insisted.

Ralph took one last glance at Castle rock in penitence, his heart in his throat. Sam was right. Simon could help rescue the others. However, he wasn't sure about Roger. He couldn't possibly want to help rescue the others when he on Merridew's side here and had probably been the one to kidnap the others in the first place. He could only hope Simon had knocked some sense into him or had at least convinced him to help.

It hurt to leave Castle rock, the lust to find Merridew inveigling him forward. But he had to find Simon and possibly Roger, they would then stand a better chance if things were to spiral out of control. He heaved a sigh, turning to follow Sam.

"Let's go."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See you next time, I might have to alter no. of chapters bc 10 wont be enough


	9. Fraternising with the enemy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon finally catches up to Roger ensuing an interesting interaction between the two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: EXPLICIT CONTENT / GRAPHIC VIOLENCE
> 
> This is my reupload of the chapter. I originally uploaded it last night but a message this morning regarding the chapter made me realise I needed to read over what I had written and rightly so. I didn't mean to infringe on anyone. Apologies if any got a notification for it- it won't be taken down again. 
> 
> Besides that, because of my choice on how to carry out the chapter, my story rating has to change to explicit. I've rewritten this chapter many many times but have finally settled on this idea. Sorry in advance to anyone this may hurt, happy reading xx  
> And thank you thank you for all your support !

Chapter 9: Fraternising with the enemy

* * *

**Present day - 2:30PM, May 11th 1967.  
** **Simon's pov**

Simon tumbled over, his face gliding against the stone cold floor of the cave. Roger was right in front of him, his face stoic and irredeemable. Simon quickly sprung from the ground, leaping towards him. This time he found himself dangling over, Roger gripping him tight before dropping him to the ground.

"Are you done?" Roger questioned dismally. Simon felt weak, his arms scrawny and tired.

"Never..." he panted, pulling himself off the ground once more. "You ruined everything!" he declared, aggrieved, doubling over his knees.

Roger advanced on him, placing a hand under his chin with a slight smirk on his lips. "My, my you really love to point blame, don't you?" he chortled mischievously. "Love to blame others for your own actions," he drew a thumb along his lip. Simon knew what he was referring to, but knew he couldn't speak of it.

Simon bolted upright, backing away hurriedly, "This isn't about me!" he retaliated angrily. He knew Roger would deflect the question, naturally it was to be expected. "This is about _you_ kidnapping the others, trashing the camp... and probably torturing the others too!" he waggled a finger towards him accusingly.

Roger's expression melted, leaving a cold grin, "So what if I did?" he retorted questioningly. "What, did you think following me here would make me feel bad?" he outstretched his arms in humour. "Think I would forgive you for everything you did to me?"

Simon couldn't face his mistakes, his eyes were raw and his throat lumped with the betrayal sitting sourly in his esophagus. "Why are you doing this...?" he questioned feebly, his hope draining perpetually.

"You already know the answer," he retorted slyly, bitterly glaring at him with merciless, jagged eyes.

Simon wiped a hand across his face, a whimper escaping through his gritted teeth. He lunged forward bitterly, pushing towards Roger but found himself smashing brutally against the spiny walls of the cave. He knew tears were flooding his cheeks, but he didn't care. Betrayal hurt. What Roger and him once had was nothing short of a connection, A bond far from superficial. But now it was gone. He could only guess that's why Roger would defy him like this, hurt him in every way possible. It was revenge. Reminding him of Ralph's situation very symmetrically; Merridew was causing all this malarkey for revenge. Just as Ralph had assumed.

Simon turned around, his body numb. He looked Roger in the eyes, a hiss of anguish penetrating through his lips. "What were you doing back at camp?" he diverted the question. Roger remained stoic. Simon heaved towards the black haired boy, "The day after you trashed the camp, we all saw you on the edge," he explained roughly. "So why were you there?" he pressed forward, desperate for any confirmation that Roger has some conscience left in him.

Once he saw Roger standing ominously by _their_ camp, he knew he had to go after him. He didn't know his intentions, or whether running after him was a definite trap but he didn't care at the time. The only thing he cared about was settling the island, returning sanity and peace. And to .

Roger said nothing, his eyes slightly widening.

"It's an easy enough question," he spat. "Why were you there?"

Roger collected his hands behind his back, a smile painted across his skin. "To spy on you," he retorted devilishly. "Chief was beginning to feel impatient, so he sent me to come looking for you," he trailed in a hiss. "To make sure the plan would still... work."

Simon backed up, the tears still pouring. Here he was hoping that Roger had changed, or perhaps wanted to rekindle their broken relationship. Because Simon was ready to put that behind him, to start a new and forgive. And he was trying. He wanted Roger to know that he didn't want to leave him; that he was required to for their own safety. But the chances of him recognizing his apologies were fading. Roger wasn't here to grant him any mercy.

"What plan?" he quizzed nervously, the hairs on his neck tingling. "What does Merridew want?"

Roger said nothing.

Simon closed the gap between them in frustration, "Tell me!" a smile grew on Roger's face. He quickly grabbed a hold of Roger's wrist, squeezing tightly.

Roger interjected, pulling his wrist off. "Hm, maybe I'll tell you," he mused seductively, licking his lips. Simon tried to look away, feeling extremely taunted and vulnerable. "If you do something for me."

"W-what...?" he meekly asked, dreading what he could possibly ask him for.

Roger only grinned, leaning in on him. His heavy breaths glided against his skin, sending shivers up his spine. Simon didn't make eye contact, he refused to give in to his alluringly cutting demands. He could only imagine what Roger could want. Maybe to join Merridew's hunters or to lure Ralph... whatever he wanted, he wouldn't accept it no matter what it was.

Roger placed his hand under his chin, gently tilting it upwards before placing a kiss on his lips. Simon felt his neck stiffen; his body completely paralyzed. Why was he playing games? Roger had already made it clear that he was on Merridew's team, so why go through the trouble? Roger made a hasty shift, biting his lip fervently, his hand trailing down his chest. Simon quickly pushed him off, gasping for air in a panic.

"What are you playing at?" he persisted in anguish, his legs trembling.

Roger chortled enticingly, "Still avoiding blame," he declared forwardly and unexpectedly. Simon said nothing, avoiding eye contact. "Are you not?" he questioned slyly, beckoning a response.

Simon clutched his arm anxiously. It pained him to admit it, but Roger was right. He felt uneasy discussing the subject, wanted to avoid it at all costs because he knew the implications; knew the consequences of it.

"Please, It's been over three years!" he spurted in warning, his voice trembling. "You and I both know it could've never worked."

Roger's grin melted, "It could've," he insisted firmly. "If you weren't a pussy."

"I did what I had to!" he persisted defensively. "To protect us, _both_ of us!" he enunciated sullenly.

Roger spat to the side, "Did you ever question how I would feel?" he hissed bitterly. "No. Instead you selfishly ran away, leaving me behind," he got out in a throttled, strained voice.

"I was scared!" he spat nervously. "My father kept asking me questions as to why I spent so much time with you, and I panicked," a pause, he tried to read Roger's expression but he remained still. "I knew he would find out sooner or later and-and we would've been done for!" he hurried out frenetically, desperately trying to explain.

"We could've ran away together," he suggested casually.

"And left everything?" Simon questioned fervently. "Where would we have gone?"

"I had some friends we could've stayed with..." he trailed coolly.

Simon heaved a sigh in annoyance, "Maybe I made the wrong decision, or didn't think things through, but it's over," he reiterated articulately. "There isn't anything we can do about it now, so why can't you stop with this whole revenge thing," he implored.

Roger hissed a gasp under his breath, "Clever," he retorted sardonically. "You really have everything figured out, don't you?"

"Roger," he pleaded painfully, avoiding his bratty remarks. "This has to stop," he prodded in desperation. "I came after you to try and make amends, to stop this whole charade."

Roger seized Simon's shoulder's and heaved in a sigh. "From what I saw, you charged at me," he recalled bitterly, snaring through his teeth. "Declaring I had ruined everything," Simon bit his lip, his cheeks flushing hotly. "Doesn't seem to me like you wanted to _make amends_ ," he retorted indignantly, his grasp cold and commanding.

"I was angry!" he retaliated innocently. "The island is completely severed in two, and since you sided with Merridew I thought it would be a trap, or you would hurt me," he got in a panicked tone, rambling on. Roger gazed at him, the sunlight from outside refracting off of his darkened eyelashes. He came forward in a sigh, pushing his black, coarse curls up from his temple.

"You know I would never hurt you," he declared slightly flirty, closing the space between them. Simon cleared his voice noticeably, gliding back to allow space between them.

"I couldn't be sure," he admitted weakly. "I still can't!" he protested, feeling Roger's glare in his eyes like a bee sting. "Not when I come here and you blatantly admit that your helping Merridew with this _plan_ of his as a way of revenge!" he spat bitterly, enveloped in anger.

"You really hurt me, Simon," he chided truthfully.

Simon placed a hand on his in anyway to show endearment. "I know..." he winced in guilt. "But revenge isn't the answer," he declared desperately, hoping for reconciliation.

Roger gazed at him perturbed, almost as if he was analysing him closely.

"Chief wants revenge," he corrected stoically. "Not sure why, but I won't question it."

"It's because Ralph and him broke up!" he spurted accidentally, gasping in near horror. He could feel his stomach churn with a groan of nausea, his palms sweaty and his breaths heavy.

Roger grinned sardonically, raising a dark brow. "I had no idea Chief was _in love_ with Ralph," he said amused, stifling a chortle. "He never specified his reasoning of the plan."

Simon felt a slight twinge of panic. He vowed to Ralph he wouldn't tell anyone about him and Merridew, not when the dangers had broken even. Yet he stupidly blurted in to Roger of all people. "Don't tell Merridew I told you," Simon implored with haste, his throat filled with the sour taste of repulsion. "He'll blame Ralph and-" Roger placed a ridged hand over his mouth, pressing firmly.

"Shut it," he hissed sharply. "I have no interest in the Chiefs affairs, no desire to tell him what he clearly already is aware of," he assured him with an undertone of bitterness. "Although, I wonder why he decided to keep such a secret from me," he chided, removing his hand from his mouth.

"The same reason you haven't told him about us," Simon assumed. "Besides, its his business, don't tell anyone-"

"Shut it," he repeated spitefully. "I do love a good wager you know, or much rather a good deal," he retorted, his lips curbing. Simon felt a pang of penitence string along his eyes, shocked by his harsh words.

"A wager? A deal?" he questioned in befuddlement as if these were all foreign words he were speaking.

"Indeed," he spoke with confidence. "Remember I said I would tell you the plan, if you did something for me?" a grin grew on his face, sharp and edgy in both corners. His eyes lit up, far more clarity had surpassed through and Simon could finally see things more clearly, understand just what Roger wanted. He gulped strikingly, slowly nodding in hesitance.

"Let's make this interesting then," Roger drew a chuckle, pushing back hair once more. "Despite how poorly you must think of me, know that I very much think of you and too want to clear everything up," he concluded. "However, I have a request," he taunted darkly, his tongue sliding up his lips.

Simon gulped rather noticeably, "Which is?"

Roger almost drew a smirk in seduction, staring incredulously at him. Simon tried to avoid his lusty gaze, but he felt himself drawn in to the opportunity, a throb in his underwear. Roger advanced towards him, pushing his black curls up from his forehead.

"I want you to blow me," he whispered seductively, breathing heavily into his ear. Simon felt his chest tighten, butterflies fluttering in his stomach with a churning sensation. He tried not react, but he could feel the throb of his own cock in his underwear, beating harshly. He couldn't possibly agree to such a request, could he? Roger leaned in with hunger, kissing chastely against his bare neck.

Simon could feel his pants draw out into the little space between them. "I'm waiting for your answer," he struck again, pressing harshly against his skin. Roger almost drew a smirk in seduction, staring incredulously at him. Simon tried to avoid his lusty gaze, but he felt himself drawn in to the opportunity, a throb in his underwear. Roger advanced towards him, pushing his black curls up from his forehead.

"I'll do it," he concurred reluctantly, gulping from the memories of indecent images flashing back to him. This scenario had appeared many times in the past, never in a cave of course, but it happened more times than he could count. Every week, Roger and him would settle on something _fun_ to do on a Friday night after school. Something to draw them closer together.

Roger beckoned him forward, preponderantly grabbing his tousled hair, shoving him to the ground below the belt. Roger was playing frivolously, a little too recklessly and Simon was aware of it. He knelt with hesitation. It had been far too long since he and Roger had engaged in such activities that he felt foreign to the idea. An awkward silence ensued while Simon gulped, querulously, watching him pull down his black tattered trousers and pull his cock out.

He tentatively put his hand around Roger's cock, slowly feeling it under his sweaty palms, the softness and the hardness of it. Wasting no time to gently rub and squeeze it, Roger moaning in seeming arouse.

"Like old times, eh?" Roger asked haughtily through heated gasps, dragging fingers slowly through his coarsened hair, pushing him to carry on. Soon enough, Simon suddenly felt a hand on the back of his head, pressure on the back of his head, as his face was being pushed closer toward Roger's crotch. He slightly resisted, reluctant to delve into such indecency. He thought he would've been free of such indiscretion, free of such sinful behaviour but here he found himself hungry for a taste; his curiosity made him open his mouth and put his lips around the tip first, tongue hesitantly licking at it, and Roger gasped through his teeth, holding his hand on his head rather tightly.

Simon was a little hesitant at first, reckoning he would feel inexperienced or find the taste rather unpleasant as it would be the familiar salty taste of sin. But his desires were too frivolous to deny, the thrill inducing him, he relished in it, craved more than he could begin to understand. Simon proceeded, tracing his tongue down his member with a confidence, trailing a steady stream of kisses down to the tip.

"Have you missed the taste?" Roger questioned lewdly with a slight undertone of ignominy , tightening the dominant grip around his head. Simon felt a little disgusted by his gritty remarks but he tried to ignore them, lapping desirably with every slither of poison dribbling down his throat. A guttural groan escaped Roger as he forced Simon mouth further onto his cock, until it hit the back of his throat and he choked; the gagging sensation, and the humiliation settling in nicely along with the nauseous pain of enjoyment. He shivered a little, that feeling in his throat lingering. Was Roger doing this on purpose? Was he trying his absolute best to ridicule him, to thrust himself so forcefully despite knowing of Simon's wariness to such activities? He assumed only that. Roger was taking advantage of his embarrassing urges and he was naively satisfying him.

He wasn't complaining as such, the warmth of it, pulsating into his wet mouth, and with each pulsation his own cock was embarrassingly throbbing harder, hardening in his undergarments.

His head was suddenly, aggressively dragged back by Roger's hand, his mouth released, a string of saliva dribbling from his glimmering mouth. A glance up in defiance, watching Roger through a hesitant gaze of slight repulsion. Roger's facial features had hardened slightly, and Simon could sense the intensity, the dominance of his dark brown eyes staring intensely at him. They were both heavily breathing, panting with moans between each breath before Roger yanked Simon off of the ground, Simon nearly wincing in the pain.

"Well I will say you are and always have been a natural," he cooed tantalisingly. "Though I must say," he leaned in seductively with his breaths wet and heavy against Simon's skin. He swiftly grabbed Simon by the collar bone, lifting him slightly above him. Simon could feel his underwear throb with desire, his embarrassing fantasies shining through his innocent eyes, wanting so badly for Roger to take his turn, the tension between them utterly immaculate.

Roger's soft, brown eyes diluted intensely, the grip around his collar a little too suffocating. Simon, heavy with disorientation, gazed in confusion at Roger before suddenly, was thrown barbarically against the stone wall of the cave with a loud _thud_ pulsating echoes as he smashed against it.

Simon gasped in pain, his whole body aching and throbbing when he hit the concrete floor. He tried to compose himself, sick with confusion and humiliation. "It's over," Roger retorted with indignation, laughing maliciously under his cold hard breaths. "How does it feel, _Simon_?" he hissed smugly. "Betrayal hurts, _doesn't it_?" he chortled derisively under his cold breaths.

Simon felt a certain dizziness as he glanced up at Roger with his mouth parched, "What...?" he questioned morosely, his whole body throbbing. "Roger-" he clambered up onto his feet, but his ankles were sore and rippled, causing him to topple over. Roger towered above him, zipping his holey trousers back up before kneeling a foot on his neck. Simon gasped in pain, his eyes watery.

"It was quite fun," Roger retorted scornfully, lowering his weight onto his neck. Simon gasped a hiss in pain, reaping with anger and hopelessness. "But I'm afraid I must bid you adieu," he chortled malignantly, taking his foot off abruptly.

Simon gasped for air as if starved for oxygen, tears pouring down his cheeks. "I- I thought we-" he whimpered dryly. "I thought we were-"

"Shut up," he hissed sardonically. Simon flinched, wearily glancing up in distress. "You can't expect to shit on everyone's happiness, to then be forgiven by a half ass apology that majority of the time was just shifting blame, or worst of all: excuses," he barked, thrusting forward. Simon said nothing, his breaths heavy, nearly closing his eyes in fear.

"I didn't mean to hurt you," he protested meekly, shielding his chest once Roger appeared above him in a gloating manor. "Why can't you see that?" he asked dryly, a slither of anguish and humiliation in his throat. He had just blown Roger so carelessly, emptied his entire trust into him only to be betrayed. He felt utterly stupid and idiotic, his face wet with tears. He only wanted to return things to how they once were, and his fervent request seemed trusting. It seemed like a taste of old times. And Simon fell for it. He had fallen into his trap; Roger was using him.

"Are you forgetting the part where you told my parents that I was gay?" he thrashed darkly, kicking his foot against his torso. Simon convulsed, rolling across the stony floor in agony. He hissed a gasp in pain. That was his biggest regret, telling Roger's parents. He reckoned at the time that if he told them, Roger would stay away from him. But he didn't realise his parents would believe him, he just wanted Roger to take it as a warning. "They sent me away!" another kick, this time a loud _thud_ on his chest. Simon gasped, nearly choking. He couldn't move, his chest enveloped in pain. "All because your self righteous ass couldn't be honest and truthful with me, instead you got me shipped to a mental facility where I was flogged every night!" he barked malignantly, this time jetting his arm in Simon's face. He gasped in pain, his eye swelling rather quickly. Roger jabbed again, this time at his lips. Blood seeped from Simon's mouth, trickling down his face.

He tried to open his eyes, Roger noticeably stiffing, his face scrunched up red. He felt powerless, any chances of mending their bond had evaporated. "That was a mistake! " Simon cried painfully, dragging an arm to wipe the blood from his mouth. "I loved you!" he proclaimed daringly. Roger lowered shoulders for nearly a moment, his face expressionless and meek. "But It was too dangerous, I didn't want us to get caught," he explained desperately, his chest throbbing.

"Liar!" another merciless kick, this time harder. Simon choked in agony. "You could've easily talked to me about it, but instead you were a complete prick," Roger hissed scornfully, the antagonism shining through his bloody mouth. "Telling my parents, what exactly did you expect to accomplish?" he questioned darkly, his eyes soulless and empty. Simon pushed passed his mind-numbing pain, forcing himself to stand and face him for what could be his last time.

"I didn't mean for you to be sent away!" he spurted, his whole body numb. "I thought they would have a talk with you- and-and you would leave me alone," he explained hurriedly, spitting blood to the side. "Thought they wouldn't believe me- it was just to scare you off," he declared in defence, indubitably knowing that his excuses were utterly useless. But he had to try, try and make things right.

"Well of course they believed you!" Roger spluttered venomously through throttled gasps. "You were the _pastor's_ fucking son you bastard!" he thrust forward, pushing him backwards forcefully. Roger let out a quiet whimper. Simon tried to reach an arm out, shaking tremendously.

"I'm sorry," he uttered emptily, shakily placing an arm on his shoulder. "I messed up but this has gone too far!" he protested dryly, lapping up the blood from around his mouth. "What did _you_ expect to accomplish from hurting me like this?" he questioned, throbbing in anguish. "Making me believe that you still cared for me- that intimacy we shared!" Roger muttered something under his breath, but it was too incoherent to interpret. He couldn't contain himself, his words flooding from his mouth one after the other.

Roger said nothing, but his features hardened to a red pulp, his face screwed up.

"I came here willingly to make things right," he spat angrily, sinking in hurt. "Risked my bloody life, just for you," he cursed sourly, his voice wobbling in places. "I only wanted you to know that I still cared for you! That I wished things could've been different," he got out in a strained, raspy manor. Roger almost gazed at him with ocean eyes, his expression shifting softly. "But instead you trick me like the _tyrant_ you are and always have been!" sudden hurtful words spewed roughly out of his mouth without hesitation. "Pretend to make up, only to humiliate me," he spat. Roger's eyes darkened, his nose scrunched up profusely. "Dissembling like you always fucking have," he cursed explicitly, ashamed at his own sinful words. His father would've flogged him for such language.

"I don't believe I've seen someone so arrogant, _Simon_ ," he hissed darkly, jesting cruelly at his name. "Feigning innocence," he continued hatefully, jabbing a finger against his chest. "When in reality you are pathetically nothing short of a monster," Simon felt his stomach churn, the agony of pain was not from his wounds. "Despising me, calling me a tyrant when you've never had the balls to take some fucking responsibility until it benefited you," he spat in utter scorn. "So before you play the victim, maybe apprehend that you deserved it."

Simon limped in anguish, hopeless. Roger was right in a way; he crossed a line and ruined not only Roger's relationship with his parents, but his education and his friendships. And of course, broke things off with him with little to no explanation. Still there remained an impetuous scorn embedded in his mind. Instead of finally releasing his grudge, Roger lured him into a trap and took advantage of his sexual and emotional desires in the most damaging way possible. It filled him with cemented anger and fury that rifled in his mouth like tiny bullets. He could feel his wounds throb achingly, his heart ridged and torn.

Indeed, he had done something unforgivable by revealing Roger's secret, but it wasn't as if he had done it to spite him, It was never meant to happen the way it did. Yet Roger still refused to acknowledge any of his attempts at reconciliation, blaming him by saying he deserved it. And that filled him to the brink with befuddlement. He just couldn't understand how Roger could blame him for what happened, but then make things worse by using him. He had come to the conclusion that Roger was a hypocrite, a vengeful tyrant who shunned others for their mistakes, but when committing his own wrong doings, would never take accountability, justifying them by the simple defence of _you deserved it._

"You're right," he uttered throatily, an undertone of vitriolic pain, collapsing by the wall, his head automatically leaning tirelessly against it. "I was stupid," Roger slumped his bladed shoulders, raising a brow. "I should've never told your parents," he trailed weakly, clamping his hand against his stomach in pain. His breaths were heavy and raspy, he could barely keep his eyes open. Roger said nothing, but continually gazed gormless at him. "But I do know one thing," he uttered feebly.

"And what's that?" Roger asked in spite, drawing nearer to him.

Simon grappled his stomach tightly, oozing in complete pain. "This proves my assumptions of you," he retorted indignantly, thrashing. Roger casually folded over his arms in anticipation. He spat into Roger's face in a pit of anger, "No matter how much you try and justify your vengeful acts, you're still a bloody _tyrant_ who has never learnt the meaning of love or devotion, or the delight of having someone to care about. Holding a grudge for years on end without ever recognising my triumphant apologies. No matter how much you mask your tyranny behind a pretence, pretend you have morals, that you have a reason to treat me so poorly over a misunderstanding, over a mistake I made, you won't ever rectify anything between us, because you're a bloody hypocrite, a manipulative coward hiding behind a façade who I'll always despise!" He finished his rant with his heart in his throat, heavily breathing, burning eyes slashing into Roger's petrified face. The silence that followed was deafening. Roger's eyes seemed to bulge out, mad and bolting. His lips carved into a slim frown, heavily disturbed.

Roger's face melted, his skin deathly white. "How dare you," he uttered in mortification, his voice strangled and dry. Simon could almost see the glistening tears in his eyes, could hear the gulp escape from his mouth.

"Hurts, doesn't it?" he tirelessly asked, blood gurgling in his mouth, he quickly swallowed, a coppery taste left resonating on his tongue. "The truth."

"You think you know me?" he questioned in a hiss, meaningfully, stomping forward in a bratty matter. Simon could hear the cracks in his voice. "You know _nothing_ of my morals, _nothing_ of my feelings for others, so please I _dare_ you," he warned darkly. "Tell me more, because I'd fucking love to hear it," he seethed fiercely, crouching down to Simon's level in intimidation.

"You're a hypocrite," he said meekly, leaning closer smugly with his remaining energy. "Holding a grudge against me for all these years for a mistake I made in consternation, but then when you decided to trick me, to take advantage of my feelings for you, luring me into intimacy for your own ugly vengeance, your only defence is that I deserved it," he reconfirmed in choler, heavily drained in folly, confusion that ruptured his coherent understanding of anything. Roger was still, his face rather pale and constricted. "I think I get it now. You are a sociopath! Only capable of manipulating those around you for your own selfish gain, destroying them once you have no use for them," He couldn't stop himself as hurtful words of truth flooded out his mouth one after another, sparks of white, pure fire spitting nastily in Roger's face. Simon felt his arms prickle in guilt, the hairs statically shooting up, a chill down his spine. He knew Roger wasn't at all just a sociopath, not when their memories together were clear proof of that, but Simon couldn't think with clarity.

Roger suddenly roared as he slammed his fist against the wall between Simon's shoulder and his head followed by heavy breathing. Simon squinted his eyes shut, dreading Roger's next coarse of action. He was beginning to assume the worse, Roger's ego probably bruised.

"Leave," Roger growled in a throttled manor.

Simon coughed a little. Were his ears deceiving him? "W-what?"

"I said get the fuck out _Simon_!" he repeated, this time, clamping his hand on the floor, a thump echoing in the cave interior. Simon gazed back gormless, shocked beyond reasoning.

"Y-you're not going to kill me?" he questioned dubiously, half expecting Roger to have finished him off.

"Despite all you think of me, I do have fucking morals," he declared firmly. "I cared very much for you," he continued, his voice weakening. Simon nearly giggled at his remark of twisted affection, his wounds saying otherwise. "Now _get out_ , before I change my mind," he said, slumping to the ground against the wall, hands gathered in a knot.

Simon was delirious with confusion, his mind guzzled. Why would Roger beat him black and blue, but then still insist on his care for him? It made no sense to him. You don't hurt those you care about. Especially not in all the twisted ways Roger had. So why? Why wouldn't he finish him off?

Simon lifted himself up faintly, gnawing his teeth through the detrimental pain. He glanced down at Roger's lifeless expression, his bloodied life in his bloody hands. "This isn't a trap?" he coughed mildly, hobbling along.

"No."

"But-"

"I said _out_!" he barked furiously causing Simon to jump.

He refused to look back after that, his body nearly collapsing under him. He was devastated, filled with anguish. As soon as he emerged alive from the cave, he let out a loud cry, tears pouring uncontrollably down his face. Why did he still have feelings for him? He couldn't fathom that. Roger had taken advantage over him only to sustain his own twisted, vengeful desires. Masqueraded forgiveness and affection, only to rip that connection right from him, leaving a bare wound to furthermore brutally exploit. Simon couldn't see very well out of his left eye as Roger had for sure given him a black eye that was gradually swelling, and his vision in general was slightly impaired due to the lack of rationality left in his mind.

He wanted to give up.

His wounds continued to throb and well and pulsate soundly which drove him to think so pessimistically of his outcome. He trusted him. Risked his life to follow him all the way up to this dingy cave only to be used. He thought things would be different, that they would mend their broken bond and then he could've helped talk some sense into Merridew.

But he had ruined everything. Roger was still on Merridew's side, and so it would be up to him, Ralph and Sam to fix it.

He had failed himself, failed Ralph, the island was surely doomed to be segregated for all eternity. Unless of course, Ralph managed to fix things with Merridew. Though he expected the latter. He had failed to make amends with Roger, so why would Ralph to Merridew be any different?

He realised how pessimistic he was sounding. He should be hoping for the best, holding on tightly to any remainder of optimism buried deep. But he couldn't. His wounds were throbbing both physically and mentally and he had lost Roger forever. To some it should be a relief that he was rid of him, after all, he had played him like a deck of cards, took sexual advantage over him with hope of change, only to then beat him to the verge of death. But he couldn't quit him. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't help but feel an inexplicable link binding them. As if by a thread of fate.

As he hobbled down the dirt path, the sunlight fading in a yellow-manna dewy glow, the wind chafing against his purple-blue bruised skin, he found himself weeping subconsciously, clutching his stomach with his fading strength. And without thinking he looked over his shoulder, beginning to wonder if this was how it was suppose to be, if their paths would cross again, wondered why he felt drawn to him like a moth to flames. But most importantly, he brooded over if it had ever been a good idea to fraternise with the enemy.

And maybe, his unexplained link towards Roger proved one thing: That perhaps he was as fucked up as Roger was.


	10. Perfidy - part one

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ“ɪᴛ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴀ ᴍɪꜱᴛᴀᴋᴇ," ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴀɪᴅ. ʙᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʀᴜᴇʟ ᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴡᴀꜱ, ɪᴛ ꜰᴇʟᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍɪꜱᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴍɪɴᴇ, ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʀᴜꜱᴛɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ.”  
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ― ᴅᴀᴠɪᴅ ʟᴇᴠɪᴛʜᴀɴ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ─────────────ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

**Present day - 3:00pm 11th May**

Ralph prodded along the dirt path, arms swaying jadedly in throttled regret. Despite the urgency residing in him to find Simon, make sure he was OK and rendezvous; he could feel the pain in his chest that thumped sharply, the selfish reluctance telling him that he should've gone to Castle rock as soon as he was given the opportunity. But he couldn't give in, discounting those thoughts. As much as he wanted to rectify his mistakes, he wouldn't just abandon Simon to chase after his dream guy.

Because there was this old saying _Pals before gals._ Putting your friends before your crush or lover. He wasn't one for tradition, friends didn't _have_ to come first but Simon was his best friend so he decided to uphold this saying. He wondered if there was a male-male phrase that was the equal of _pals before gals_. He considered, _Mates before dates?_ It wasn't a bad attempt, but it was pretty gender neutral. He couldn't help but laugh to himself, trying hard to think of a better phrase that actually fit. _Bro's before hoe's?_ That didn't work either, Merridew was guy. A light bulb nearly flashed off in his head when he thought of the next one. _Bud's before stud's._ He was pretty proud of that one, nodding to himself in satisfaction. He didn't necessarily think Merridew was a _stud_ , but the rhyme was impeccable and it fit.

He felt a little guilty, even a little stupid making fun of the situation, but he couldn't help it. This wasn't an ideal situation, so he had to make the best out of it.

Sam remained in front, frantically trudging along, flapping his arms about to move the overhanging leaves from trees out of the way. Ralph followed, silently wondering how Sam even knew where he was going. Sure, both of them by now knew the island like the back of their hand, but they were following a voice that they hadn't heard for the past half hour, so how did Sam know they were going in the right direction?

With the sun drifting behind the clouds, the sky seemed to fade into an eerie glow, an orangey twilight that syphoned the remaining sunlight, refracting off the vibrant greenery of the jungle. Ralph gulped voicelessly, his throat dry. All this time he had promised Simon's safety in Roger's bloodied hands, but when approaching the far side disquieted him suddenly, jagged prickles jabbing on the skin of his neck. Something didn't feel right and he couldn't think what. He followed closely behind Sam, making sure to suppress his inner fears, stay positive to ensure the younger boy wouldn't have a freak out on him.

With the winds suddenly blustering over him, Ralph sped up his pace, now in alignment with Sam. He cleared his throat, trying inconspicuously to grab his attention. But Sam seemingly didn't notice, still facing directly ahead, his shoulders tensed and his pace quickening, heavy breaths exhaling from his mouth.

"Sam, where are we going?" he questioned a little unnerved, nudging him. Sam briefly glanced up at him, looking rather frustrated.

"To find Simon, remember?" he clarified a little sluggishly. Ralph however could feel a twitch of agitation settling.

Ralph groaned jarringly, "But _where_ are we going?" he questioned more specifically in articulation. Sam shrugged in response.

"Simon is this way," he reckoned hesitantly. "This is the direction I heard him from," he further clarified.

"But this isn't even close to Castle rock," Ralph pointed out in dismay, wishing for his inner fears to recede. He glanced up around him, ducking under thick, protruding branches whenever they got in the way. He knew _matter-of-factly_ , that they had trailed far from Castle rock. Why would Roger and Simon be all the way out here? It wasn't exactly the prettiest part of the island. In fact it was rather deserted and barren. Nothing but trees and thick bushes, the occasional grassy terrain but that was it. He was almost certain that he wouldn't be out here.

"Well," Sam said a little flustered. "I was sure it was coming from this direction."

"Why would he trek all the way out here?" Ralph questioned in disbelief. "After all this _is_ the far side of the island."

Sam seemed startled by this, his breaths noticeably heavy. "I don't know," he admitted ruefully. "Maybe Roger wanted to take him out here where no one would hear him scream," he decided morbidly. Ralph felt his teeth grind in mortification, a sudden wave of nausea passing him over.

"Don't say that," he apprised, highly disturbed. "Roger would never-"

"Hurt him?" Sam butted in with a slight bitterness in his tone. "You keep saying that, but we both know it isn't true," he hissed. Ralph looked over at him pitifully. "Don't say anything. I don't care if they were childhood friends, because people change and you have to be careful who you trust," he warned darkly.

Ralph wanted to retaliate, but it was hopeless. At this point even he was doubting himself because even though him and Merridew were inseparable, inextricably linked together even, their relationship had ended bitterly, violently. So Sam was right. It doesn't matter how close you are with someone, because love can turn to war if blossomed in the right circumstances, your soulmate can turn to an enemy if you hand them the knife.

"You really care for Simon?" Ralph quizzed softly, trying to initiate a more positive conversation.

"More than you know," he sighed gingerly. Ralph laughed to himself and Sam took instant notice. "Don't be all like that," he nudged against his side playfully.

Ralph shoved him over vivaciously, giggling a little. "No, it's just I didn't realise you were so close," he confessed, grinning sheepishly when glancing over at him. Sam shoved him again.

"Oh stop it," he warned light heartedly. "He was a good friend to me... that's all. And you don't just abandon your friends," he replied, his voice dropping suddenly to a sullen, more dismal tone. Ralph felt his chest tighten with feelings of guilt strangling him. He tried to ignore them, focus on what Sam was saying, inhaling slowly. "Remember back in school?" he questioned meekly. Ralph nodded in affliction.

"Yeah..." he heaved a sigh, sliding his hands in the rim of his tattered shorts.

"We were all friends, weren't we?" he questioned rhetorically. "Me, Eric, you, Simon and Piggy," he gulped on the last word, trailing off of it gradually.

Ralph nodded sullenly, defeated by the grief of it all.

"But now look at us," he spurted in aggrievance. "Everything went wrong. The hunters came and trashed the camp, took Eric, and now Simon is gone!" he finished in a hiss, as if all of his bottled up fury had burst all at once.

"Things were easier back then," Ralph concurred in agreement. "I didn't mean for all this to happen..." he trailed, conflicted by his past actions. "This is all my fault."

"No it's not," Sam protested defensively, placing a warm hand on his back. "I mean... you shoved Merridew off a cliff..." he recalled a little tensely. "But you didn't mean it. It was just an accident."

"A pretty _big_ accident," he retaliated scornfully, bitterness in his own words. "An accident that should've never happened!" he spluttered with disgust for himself. "But it did, I hurt Jack. And now he hates me, he'll never forgive me," he uttered defeatedly, grappling his bony arms.

"You don't know that," he kindly offered. But Ralph tutted under his breath. "You know one time back in England..." he began, still remaining almost chirpy. "Me and Eric went bike riding- as we did every Sunday," he blathered on cheerily. "We were going down a rocky hillside and... things went horribly wrong. Eric rode over a rock and went _flying_ off of his bike, tumbling down the hill," his voice dropped significantly, the colour in his cheeks turned ashen, and his expression slightly disgruntled. "He got hurt bad. Like _really_ bad," a hard inhale. "Broke his arm and sprained his ankle."

"But that _was_ an accident," he enunciated a little bitterly for his own liking. He wasn't trying to denounce Sam's story or make it seem like it wasn't a big deal, because it was. But he just didn't see it ranking up to the severity of him nearly murdering Merridew. "You didn't cause Eric to fall off his bike."

"Maybe it wasn't my fault directly," he said. "But I was the one to suggest we ride down the hill, even though Eric told me he was scared," he emphasised emphatically. Ralph honed in, feeling slightly guilty for not taking it seriously. "But I kept telling Eric that he would be a chicken if he didn't."

"Oh," was all he could manage, rather shocked. Sam nodded in shame.

"I should've never forced him to."

Ralph would have never guessed Sam would be the type to peer pressure someone, even if it was something as simple as riding down a steep hill. It felt a little strange, a little foreign to him. Not that he was judging him. He wasn't the only one to have done some questionable things. Ralph knew all his friends thought that he was a goodie-goodie, a golden child who got straight A's, read books for a living and was kind to everyone. But that was a total lie, maybe even a slight pretence he put on from time to time.

Because as far as he was concerned, he definitely wasn't any of those descriptions- not entirely anyway. Sure, he worked hard in school and treated everyone with kindness, but he too had done horrible things. Like for starters when he and Piggy had first arrived on the island three years ago. Piggy had told Ralph his humiliating nickname and asked him not to tell anyone it. He had promised him he wouldn't, but then as soon as he was given the opportunity, he told everyone. Which he regretted to this very day.

Or there was also this one time back in school when _Merriswine_ had swooned him into having lunch with him and his friends. Ralph had complied, only because he thought if he did then Merridew would stop bugging him everyday about it. Would stop tormenting him and his friends.

However when lunch did arrive and he nervously sat with the notorious group, Merridew wasn't satisfied with just sitting and chatting. No. In between the scoffing of his cheesy nachos, he was concocting a mischievous plan, a plan that Ralph knew he would get entangled in. And so before he knew it, Merridew had looped his arm around his and was pulling him towards the school corridor, his crone followers not far behind with their cackling snickers under their breaths.

Because it was lunch time, majority of the school had collected in the canteen, which was perfect for Merridew's plan. He wanted to spray paint all of the lockers with hurtful insults. At first glance, Ralph didn't see it as big deal. Because this was classic Merridew. And if everyone got a generic insult vandalised on their locker, it would be pretty easy to ignore because _everyone_ would have one, so it wouldn't necessarily be targeting anyone.

But no, Merridew wanted to take it further as per usual. He wanted to personalise the insults. Like for instance on Piggy's locker he sprayed _F-A-T-T-Y_ in blood red ink. He tried to tell him to stop since Piggy was his friend, but Merridew all but ignored his complaints and savagely carried on like the beast he was. What Ralph failed to recognise is that he was only vandalising his friends' lockers. Everyone else's was completely untouched. At the time, he didn't know why. Now he could only presume it was because Merridew was jealous of them.

Ralph remembered it vividly. Strolling reluctantly past Simon's locker with his heart in his throat and seeing _F-A-G-G-O-T_ sprayed cruelly across. And he didn't understand at the time why Merridew would paint that insult- he didn't know Simon was into men. But he knew he couldn't have anyone see it in case it were true- because Simon would be ridiculed, beaten up etc. And Simon was his best friend. So when Merridew snuck off to the bathroom for a quick ciggy, pulling all his cronies with him, Ralph took the sleeve of his denim jacket and wiped the message clean off, leaving an un-washable stain smothered on his arm sleeve. His jacket: ruined. But he didn't care. He wouldn't let Merridew get his way, proceeding to wipe off all the other messages.

He had turned to leave, but Merridew caught him, tugging on his sleeve. _"Oi Ralph, why'd you rub off my work?" he asked emphatically, pinning him up against the lockers with his fire red hair blazing in his eyes._

 _"Because they're my friends,"_ _he replied firmly._ _"And why would you write that about Simon?"_

Merridew began snickering at that point, his breath and clothes drenched with the stench of tobacco that made Ralph nauseous. _"I'm only writing the truth,"_ _he casually replied, pulling a cigarette out of his pocket and waving it in front of his face._ _"Want one?" he asked smugly. Ralph shook his head firmly causing a fit of laughter from Merridew's followers._

_"Suit yourself, golden boy," he had uttered before pocketing it, out of sight._

_"What do you mean by, the_ _truth_?"

_"About Simon?" he questioned sardonically. "We all know he's," he made an "o" shape with his mouth, clenching his fist with a gap in the middle, moving it back and forth._

And Ralph knew what Merridew was referring to. Cock sucking. Quite frankly that was the point he really began to despise Merridew to such a degree. Because Ralph knew that he might be gay too, so for Merridew to mock and humiliate Simon for potentially being homosexual just didn't sit with him. Made him lose trust in him. All he remembered after that was shoving Merridew off of him, hurrying through the corridor back to the canteen to his real friends.

_"Gowan then, run back to your fairy friend," he hollered across the hall derisively, an ensemble of laughter ensuing between them immediately after._

Ralph still felt conflicted by that memory. Knowing now that Merridew was in fact gay, it made no sense for him scribble homophobic slurs over Simon's locker. Or even how Merridew knew Simon was gay in the first place. He could only assume that perhaps he didn't _really_ know, he was just guessing or randomly picked his locker, but that seemed ironically coincidental considering Simon was actually gay.

Despite what he had cruelly written across Simon's locker, Ralph knew it wasn't personal, wasn't done because Merridew was homophobic. He knew first hand what displacement anger looked like because he experienced it himself when he took all of his anger out on Merridew on the cliff that night. And he had learned about it in psychology class which helped. He remember his teacher Mr Smith saying, _Displacement anger is when you can't take your anger out on the person you want to, so instead you unleash it on someone you can._ Such as in his situation when he was so ashamed, so disgusted by his own sexuality that he released all his frustration, all his anger out on Merridew.

He supposed that Merridew too was secretly dealing with his own self denial about his sexuality, which is why he would tirelessly work hard to keep up an image, desperately proving he was straight by sleeping with half the girls in school. Or in this case writing slurs over Simon's locker to assure himself that being gay was sinful or wrong.

They were both dealing with their own issues.

"But he forgave me. After sulking for a while anyway." Sam suddenly piped up. Ralph quickly turned to him, pretending he had heard every word before that. "So I'm sure Merridew will forgive you too."

Ralph felt a little nauseous by his statement. Maybe Sam had pressured his twin brother to ride down a dangerous hillside that had serious consequences, but the situation seemed mild compared.

"You don't get it," he prattled on. "You weren't to know he would hurt himself, but me?" he paused, heaving a sigh. "I ruined everything. Because I was so insecure, so distraught by myself, I took all of my anger out on him. We wouldn't have even been at the cliff if it wasn't for me," he admitted shamefully, his eyes stinging in repentance.

"What happened before?" Sam quizzed curiously, sounding a little disturbed.

"Things," he vaguely muttered. "We were at Castle rock having _fun_ ," he nearly grinned in reminder, his palms sweaty. "But then Jack had suggested something, something that I wasn't ready to do and I freaked out on him and ran away," he spurted in frustration. Sam widened his eyes at him.

"That bad?" he questioned in astonishment. Ralph let out a sigh, slowing his pace down. "But then it was his fault," Sam contradicted defensively. "If you weren't ready for whatever it was, he shouldn't have forced it upon you," he firmly articulated. Ralph couldn't help but loosely smile at Sam's tireless attempts to make him feel better. It was nice. Even though Merridew wanted to proudly announce that they were in a relationship, he should've respected Ralph's wishes to not tell anyone. Especially since he knew more than anyone of the severe consequences it could bring.

"I guess you're right," Ralph concurred.

The silence had ensued and was almost deafening, the heavy breaths between them extremely awkward. Until Sam tapped his arm again, "How did Merridew not die?" he randomly asked.

Ralph felt a little startled, nearly bursting into a nervous laughter. "Sorry, what?"

"Well you said you shoved him off a cliff," he confirmed. "So how did he not die?"

Ralph giggled a little at his childish yet morbid remarks, though wondered something similar himself. He obviously didn't think he would've died, though he did spend some time brooding over the fact that Merridew seemingly sustained no clear injuries. Didn't break any bones or fracture anything. And considering it was a horrendous drop, he assumed he would've been seriously injured. But the only thing he had done was graze his legs and elbows. And possibly sprained his ankle.

The only explanation he could think of is the terminal velocity and the way he had landed. Merridew did in fact go to boot camp at one point where he did intense training in wilderness environments. So perhaps he learned safety positions if falling from a height. He couldn't say for definite, but it was a pretty good assumption.

"I think he was just lucky," he said finally with confidence. "And thankfully," he added. Pushing him off a cliff was rifling in his conscience enough, but if he had caused him serious injury, he would've been even more damaged then he already was.

"Still," Sam whistled loudly in wry amusement. "I'm surprised."

Ralph didn't want to carry on the conversation. Not because he was trying to avoid blame; he already knew he was fully responsible, but because he knew talking about it further wouldn't mend anything. All he could do now was focus on the road ahead.

As they edged towards the end of the path before an intersection, Ralph spotted a familiar face up ahead, hobbling along in the distance, with the low sun beaming blindly. Ralph winced his eyes, bringing his arm up to his temple to block the piercing light. Excited, he nudged Sam.

"Is that Simon?" he asked enthusiastically, hurrying himself along.

"I think it is!"

Ralph jogged forward despite his feet aching, filled with elation. Finally, they could reunite again. But Ralph's face soon fell once he came close to Simon's limping body, his ashen pale skin deathly looking. Ralph stopped in horror, scanning Simon like a book. He felt sick. Simon's nose gushing with crimson red blood that trickled rapidly down his mouth down to his chin before dripping onto the ground. His arms smothered with purple marks matching his legs.

His left eye punctured black and blue, reaping misery from Ralph's mortified expression. He couldn't breathe, wiping his eyes tirelessly in hope that he was just seeing things. But the longer he stared, the more prominently Simon's wounds would bulge out. He had promised Sam that Roger wouldn't hurt Simon, but he was wrong.

"Simon!" Ralph hurried forward to him. Simon barely looked up at him, his mouth stiff shut. "What happened?" he questioned cursorily, swiftly putting his arm under Simon's to help him stand properly.

Sam was staring coldly at him, his brows furrowed in deep anger most likely before hurrying to the other side of Simon and looped his arm under his. And so they began walking at a slow steady pace, carefully.

"Simon, you're injured!" Sam spurted in a panic, sounding troubled. Simon let out a dry cough, droplets of blood spewing like spits of hot tea. 

"Roger... he..." Simon trailed faintly, his voice ghostly. Ralph not only felt rippled with guilt, but bubbling with heated resentment that made his blood boil. He couldn't fathom why Roger would hurt Simon. Not when they had always been very close; Simon was the only person he knew that Roger had never hurt. But clearly he had misjudged him, and now Simon was paying the price.

"He did this?" he questioned emphatically. When Simon remained stiff, Ralph grappled his shoulders with a strong vehemence, trying for a different approach. "Simon, what went on back there?" but Simon was shivering, releasing no words. "Why would he do this?"

Simon burst out in tears, sniffling. "Because of that thing!" he spluttered vaguely, tears flooding his blotched cheeks. But Ralph knew exactly what _thing_ he was referring to. Ralph glanced over at Sam who seemed awfully quiet, then back at Simon to give him a _don't say it while Sam's around_ kind of look. Simon wiped an arm across his runny nose.

"He still hasn't gotten over that?" Ralph asked vaguely, making sure not to give anything away that would incriminate Simon.

He shook his head voicelessly, sniffling. "There's more to it," he whimpered hopelessly distancing himself from the both of them. Ralph felt his chest tighten, ushering forward to stop Simon from blurting out anything he shouldn't, quickly placing his hands over his mouth. "I did a bad thing... I-"

He leaned in towards his ear, "Simon, Sam is here," he whispered in warning. Simon let out a throttled cry, suddenly enveloping him in a tight embrace.

"I let him down!" he spurted in a cry, tightly holding onto him. Ralph held him softly to not put unnecessary pressure on his wounds. "I just wanted to make up, but he didn't believe me! He kept bringing up the past... no matter how sorry I told him I was!" Sam looked over at Ralph, with a look of befuddlement, but Ralph couldn't find the words to say to him.

"Where is he now?" Ralph quizzed in a frenzy. "We have to get as far away from him as possible!" he declared. 

But Simon shook his head, "I can't just leave him." Ralph looked at him through widened-eyes, perturbed. "I have to talk to him again. I'm sure he didn't mean to..." but he sounded more than doubtful. Ralph laughed nervously. 

"Didn't mean to my ass," he retorted sarcastically. "Did you hit your head or something?" Ralph questioned him, proceeding to pull him down the dirt path, but Simon was resisting, tugging against his arm, dragging his nails into his skin. Ralph snapped his head at him in befuddlement, "We can't stay!" he declared firmly. "No way. Now we know of Roger's true intentions, we have to go. He hurt you. And no amount of _talking_ to him will suddenly make him a good person."

"But he let me go," Simon sniffed. "I don't know why, but he did. And I want to know why."

Ralph shrugged tiredly, his eyes raw, "Well maybe there was a shred of humanity in him somewhere," he suggested loosely. "But I wouldn't count on it. He clearly hasn't changed at all."

"It's my fault..."

Ralph sighed heavily, "No it's not. Because what _thing_ could he possibly have against you that would set him off like this? Up until the island separated, he's never tried anything like this before." Ralph recalled, disgusted. Not that he wanted Simon to tell him the intimate, missing details with Sam's ever curious ears poking in, but he couldn't help but ask anyway.

Simon nuzzled his head down, sniffling voicelessly. "Things... " Ralph felt cloaked in the dark, but he wouldn't pry. "I guess since the island is split up, he wants to use it to his own advantage. His revenge."

"Well whatever it was, it doesn't matter. I'll kill him," Ralph declared darkly, grimacing over his shoulder. Simon gazed up at innocently, his eyes sparkling like the oceans, quickly shaking his head.

"You don't mean that," he sniffled, wiping his eyes. "Please, tell me your not being serious."

"Look what he's done to you!" he pointed out in mortification, his voice cracking. Simon grappled his arms, seemingly wrapped with chagrin. "He can't just get away with this!" he spurted angrily, examining Simon's wounds with the desire to throttle Roger rapidly growing beneath his skin. Though he couldn't imagine he would be able to take on Roger.

"Ralph," Simon tried feebly, burying his head in the palms of his hands. Ralph bit his lip in confliction, quickly turning for Sam who had been dead silent. "He let me go." he reminded him. 

Ralph felt unnerved, even if Roger did let Simon go, that wasn't enough. Simon was his best friend, and he wasn't going to let Roger remain unpunished, wasn't going to stand by and let him tear through Simon without consequence. "That doesn't matter! This isn't normal, Simon. Whatever Roger has said, whatever reason he has for nearly killing you is bullshit. I promise you real friends don't hurt each other like this. Yes, they fight. But never this. You don't have to protect him, he's not a good person," he confirmed firmly. In hope Sam would back him up, he turned to face the younger boy whose face had lit up fire red, his arms shaking and his legs trembling. "Sam... what's wrong... ?" Ralph questioned faintly, slightly unsettled.

Sam folded over his arms, sniffing deeply. "This wasn't part of the plan!" he suddenly bellowed, the hairs on his arms seeming to stand up. Ralph felt taken aback by his sudden burst of anger, finding himself stepping backwards in unease. Even Simon cocked his head up in curiosity, the two of them becoming dead silent.

"What do you mean?" Ralph asked, disquieted, his mouth dry. He could feel his legs trembling under him, chills racing up his spine which caused him to flinch every so often. He didn't understand, couldn't fathom his words. Sam clutched his arms, a small spurt of laughter spraying out from his mouth. An nervous laughter that sounded shrilly like a dementing echo throughout the jungle.

"I'm sorry, Ralph," he said apathetically, though his face scrunched up hotly in sorrow, his words more aphetic than anything. Ralph felt his heart drop in confusion, instinctively inspecting the area around them. "But I tried to warn you. You have to be careful who you trust," he remarked.

Loud footsteps thudded like thunder claps behind them, growing louder. Ralph quickly turned around in a panic to see Roger laughing wryly behind them, his clunky steps syphoning the life out of the jungle greenery as he passed by, his expression cold and merciless. He could feel Simon latch onto his arm like glue, sticking closely beside him.

Ralph couldn't believe what he was seeing. Nothing was making sense, nothing was slotting in. He turned back to Sam, feeling wrapped with betrayal, glared at him through anger and bitterness. Sam was staring him back, his expression grief stricken but hollow. _Why_ he mouthed pitifully. But Sam didn't answer him. Ralph didn't know what to think. So many thoughts rushed through his mind at a time, too many to comprehend. Why would Sam do this? Why would he be in cahoots with Roger?

He glanced at him once again, in case this was all some fucked up dream he was having. It made no sense. A young, innocent boy Sam was. And his friend at that! He was sure he had considered every contingency, sure everything would finally go to plan. Sam was so kind, so innocent. So how? How could he act so normal, pretend everything was perfect while knowing that he was going to be handing him to Roger? Did he even have a conscience? Was he thinking of the consequences? Was he feeling guilty?

 _No wonder Sam was so determined to get out here. No wonder he kept saying how dangerous Roger was and how he would hurt Simon. It was all a trick, a pretence to make the situation more urgent to get him to follow._ The thoughts trailed, one after another. 

All Ralph could do is wait in silence. What was there left to do? Simon was mortally wounded, Sam had double crossed him and now Roger was waltzing towards them as proud as ever. So what _was_ there left he could do? Simon and him were trapped now. No where left to go.

And it was all because of Sam. Or much rather his idiocy in easily trusting others.


	11. Perfidy - part two

"There is no love without forgiveness, and there is no forgiveness without love."

— Bryant H. McGill

**Thursday 9th May - 9:30PM**

Ralph struggled to breathe, having just shoved Merridew over the edge, _literally_. He didn't know what to do, his body unresponsive to his attempts to move. He didn't mean to, god he didn't mean to. Hesitantly, he pushed through the numbing pain, creeping towards the edge of the cliff feverishly.

He heaved in a breath, glancing petrified over the cliff's edge. And there he was, lying at the foot seemingly unconscious. Jack Merridew.

 _Is he dead?_ the morbid thought followed, along with the feeling of nausea.

He quickly cocked his head up, looking around in horrification. With his remaining strength, he hobbled towards the hill that lead to the bottom of the cliff. If Merridew was wounded, he would need medical attention right away. This was all his fault and he needed to fix it. With tears streaming down his face, he made it to the bottom of the cliff.

"Jack!" he hollered hastily, his body aching. He was at the foot of the cliff, but he was no where to be seen. He couldn't understand it, Merridew couldn't have ran away with his injuries. "Jack!" he tried again, this time louder, his throat raspy and dry.

Suddenly he felt a pointed end press against his nave, a cold breath exhale onto his skin. "Come any closer and I'll do you in," Merridew retorted indignantly, his voice sinister and thick.

Ralph felt his shoulder's tense. "J-jack?" his voice quivered. He wasn't expecting Merridew to welcome him with open arms, he just wanted him to listen.

Jack jabbed forward a little, pressing the sharpened spear into his skin. "It's Merridew to you!" he hissed savagely.

"Please stop this," Ralph said meekly, trying to reason with him. "Your hurting me."

Suddenly Merridew lowered his spear and came to the front to face him, his face hot with anger. He wrinkled his nose, holding his spear upright to lean on. Ralph examined him in repentance, noticing the large open fleshy wound that smothered his knee. He gasped in mortification, stepping forward.

"Since when do you get to give orders?" he questioned jarringly.

"Jack, you're hurt!" he pointed out. Merridew jabbed the spear forward to steer him away. "Please we have to clean it up or it's going to get infected!"

Merridew let out a wry laugh of amusement. "Don't make me laugh," he sneered. "You really are a dense prick, aren't you?" he questioned in a hiss, his eyes meeting his in a burning sort of gaze. "Pushing me off a cliff," he spat. "Then pretending to care. What are you playing at?"

"That was an accident!" he spurted in defence. He tried to come forward, desperate to make amends, eager to put this whole thing behind him. But he knew this wasn't something they could butter over. And why should Merridew forgive him? Not only had he claimed to not have loved him, he then shoved him off a cliff, potentially killing him.

All because he was terrified of the others finding out.

"Bullshit," Merridew cursed malignantly. "You know, Jones. You really are a self righteous asshole," he remarked, indifferently, leaning against his spear. Ralph felt hurt by the way he casually referred to him like this, but he wouldn't let his guard down.

"Listen to me!" he raised his voice.

"No you listen to me, _Ralph!_ " he interjected, elongating his name as if it was a dirty word. "You may have everyone else fooled with your pretence of innocence and all that bullshit, but I see right through you," he mocked harshly, wagging a finger at him accusingly.

Ralph could feel the tears trickling down his face, his throat burning. "I didn't mean for that to happen," he said in remorse, eager to make up. Ralph didn't quite know where he was going with this. No matter the outcome, him and Merridew couldn't be together. That was the whole reason this charade ever ensued in the first place. He didn't mean for it to go this far, but he had to stick with the plan. As much as it hurt. And it did. It ripped him open from the inside out to not be entangled in his grasps, to not be pressed up against his skin, kissing him passionately no matter how much it disgusted him.

"Can we please clean your wound?" he hurried, changing the conversation. Merridew looked at him bitterly. "Ja-Merridew it's going to get infected." He was scared. Scared for him. If they didn't clean it up, it could get infected and he could die. _No, I won't let that happen. I refuse to let that happen._ He reassured himself.

"Why don't you just worry about yourself?" he remarked vitriolically.

"Stop being a prick!" Ralph retaliated in frustration. Merridew's expression curbed into a frown, his nose wrinkled. "C'mon just let me help."

Merridew said nothing, his expression indifferent. Ralph came forward again, heaving a sigh.

"I fucked up," he admitted blatantly. Merridew almost looked shocked, chuffed even. "I never meant to do that, I swear it."

But he remained silent, his expression stoic, emotionless. Ralph could feel his temper rising, his desperation feeling more apparent.

"And what about you?" Ralph questioned emphatically. Merridew cocked his head, appearing intrigued. "I make one mistake and you condemn me for it. But you've made a tonne of mistakes too!" he retorted in anguish. Merridew wrinkled his freckled nose. "You know like the time you ordered your bloody hunters to kill me! Or the time you killed Piggy," he finished his rant, breathing frantically. He wasn't scared of Merridew, of course not. But he was being hypocritical.

"And I've done many things to make up for it!" Merridew spurted, flustered. His cheeks ripened red. "But I won't pretend that I'm sorry, because that's not who _I_ am- that's not _me_!" he affirmed in self assurance. "But at least I have the balls to admit that I'm not this perfect bloke you dreamed of having. But you?" he paused, bitterly. "You were always the better one out of us both. You were the _only_ reason I ever bothered to be a better person. Only reason I wanted to learn from my f-faults. But then you go and do this to me- despite everything I've done for us!"

Ralph held his breath, his throat tense and his body stinging like a thrashing whip. Merridew stalked forward, dangling his arms left and right seeming a little distressed and incoherent. He appeared wobbly and woozy as if he were drunk. It was no doubt due to his injuries.

"I told you, I didn't mean to shove you off the cliff side," he said calmly, soothing his words out in hope he would listen. "That was never suppose to happen. I was just angry and fearful and it just happened."

"I'm not talking about that," he spat back a little drowsily, his words slurring. "You lied to me. You said you loved me, but you lied to me. Was I not enough for Mr perfect?" his voice wavered and wobbled, fumbling over his words messily.

Merridew's shoulders dropped slowly, his stance weakening. He came forward clumsily, wobbling about. Ralph quickly ran forward worriedly, catching him in his arms before he fell. And slowly, pivoting around and descending to the floor gently, he lay Merridew's head on his lap, the tears jerking in his eyes. He didn't know what to do. Surely, his injuries must be embedded in him further now, beyond treatment. From the outside scanning him, Ralph could only see minor scratches and a few bruises and cuts. But what was the internal damage?

"Merridew...?" he said softly, shaking him a little. "Jack?" he corrected a little more firmly, prodding him in desperation for him to wake up. "No no no! Wake up idiot, please!" he cried miserably, his hands shaking, his heart pulsating uncomfortably. He couldn't think. He was about to lose the only person he had ever loved all because he was too fraught with his own misery, his own self hatred.

"You were enough," he sniffled, holding him tightly, his voice shivering. "You were more than enough, Jack OK? I'm an idiot. I was so desperate for no one to find out, because that was the problem here," his words came flowing naturally, despite Merridew not being able to here them. "I didn't want anyone finding out about us, because I couldn't risk losing you. I wouldn't have been able to live without you, Jack. So I thought if I ended our relationship, then we wouldn't have to live in fear of being found out," his sniffed again, wiping his dampened eyes. "So it was not your fault, but mine, it was your heart on the line. I really fucked it up this time, didn't I... ?" he leaned in closely, burying his face into his head with soft weeps trickling from his eyes.

He waited, swearing never to leave him. If he were to die, he would stay with him, die with him. "This is all my fault!" Ralph yelled in frustration. "This is all my fault, I'm a fuck up!"

There was silence in between his heated cries, distraught and distress filling the open air. "Please wake up!" he desperately cried out again.

"Would you stop yelling, it's giving me a headache," a low voice said. Ralph gasped, jolting up with his eyes widening as he beamed a smile down in relief.

"Jack?" he cupped his hands on his cheeks in elation. "God, you really are a swine," he jested, nervously laughing.

Merridew's eyes followed him upwards, his lips curbing in a somewhat smirk. "Did you just call me a swine?" he coughed out a laugh.

Ralph couldn't resist, embracing him warmly, relief and happiness, with the opposing feelings of embarrassment and humiliation. He had just poured his heart out to him like a fool. "Because you nearly scared me half to death!" he exclaimed. "I thought you weren't going to wake up!" Filled with elation, he felt a shiver of relief wash over him. He had to wonder however if Merridew had heard anything he had wittered on about, about the plan and the reason behind his motives. Not that it would be the end of the world if he did, but it would put a rift in everything he had worked towards. He couldn't stay. Couldn't stay with Merridew, despite his deepest desires to. Because it would endanger both of them.

Merridew pulled back a little, laughing wryly. "Can't get rid of me that easily, golden boy," he remarked jocularly. Ralph smiled faintly, wiping his arm across his eyes.

"You were right to be mad," he said. "I ruined everything. I could've killed you for god's sake."

"You know what, Ralph," he began in a huff. "I don't want to fight anymore. Don't want to lose what's _mine_ over this." Ralph looked at him in astonishment, feeling a blush creep onto his cheeks. Was this the same Merridew that was holding a spear to him minutes ago? "I'm tired and I need some meat," Ralph couldn't help but laugh. Typical of him.

Ralph nearly smiled heartedly but couldn't find the power to; the fear was capsizing him greatly. They couldn't just go back. "Jack I don't-"

But his words were interrupted. Merridew's mouth had captured his, slamming his lips so fervently in terrible need and he couldn't help but hungrily reciprocate. The itching in his underwear that throbbed and burned. He wanted him so badly. Ralph encircled his arms around Merridew's neck to pull him closer so their bodies were touching, the heat evaporating into the cool mist of jungle air, raspy moans gasps sounding shrilly as they struggled and thrashed, eagerly pressed up against each other. No matter how much he wanted to pull away, he couldn't. It was as if they were bound by this thread of fate that kept ravelling them closer and closer together.

Merridew tasted so smooth, softer than red velvet, and Ralph wanted to feel all of him, his fiery hair engulfing his fingertips. Merridew's lips trailed down Ralph's neck fervently, kissing, teasing, biting. Euphoria. That was the word for it. Glazed in euphoria, a delectable buzz of warmth and sensuality. He could barely repress as Merridew's fervent hands groped everywhere he reached, his hands going down his back, cupping and kneading. Another moan escaped Ralph's mouth. But his instincts were trailing apart. Merridew glanced up at him ardently, with feverish lips, eager to receive permission.

But it couldn't go on. Ralph nearly nodded but quickly shook his head. He couldn't do it. _But I want to._ But he couldn't. He shook his head mildly and retracted from his grasps, furthering himself away. Merridew articulated him a look of confusion, his ears puffing red, hotly. Ralph quickly backed up, folding his arms over.

"Oi," Merridew jested playfully at first. "What's wrong?" Ralph sniffled.

"I can't." Was all he could manage. He wanted to cry. But he forced himself to repress, to bottle up everything he was feeling. It was as if time was repeating itself, as if they were standing by the cliff. Merridew questioning him beyond control and then Ralph finding himself breaking to the point he pushes him off the cliff. But they weren't of course. They were on the lower hill, unrequited sexual arousal between them.

"Another time, perhaps?" he questioned fervently, pressing his lips together. And Ralph felt strung with anguish. He couldn't bring himself to say everything all over again. So he shook his head.

"I wouldn't have gone hard on you," he asserted him. "Not unless you wanted me to," a small laugh escaped his mouth, filled with fervency. A lick of his lips.

Ralph looked around and suddenly he was standing beside him. Ralph flinched. "I know."

"Then what's the problem, golden boy?" his voice was smooth, steady.

"This isn't us, not anymore," the hurtful words of sting flooded out. "It never can be."

Merridew's face fell again, his nose wrinkled. "This again?" he retorted sourly. "Thought you said that was all a mistake. What are you-"

"Only the part where I pushed you off the cliff," he repented instantly, clutching onto his arms, the pain seething through. Merridew looked at him, his nose scrunching up silly with red, hot anger. But he said nothing at first, the silence awkwardly filling the air in suffocation.

"Tell me I fucked up, tell me I'm a tyrant but don't say you hate me, Ralph, don't say you don't love me," there was clear pain in his voice, a slight slur of incoherence. Ralph repented, a knot forming in his stomach. "Don't say that this was all a lie!" he thrashed. There wasn't anger in his voice like Ralph had suspected, only pain. It tore him apart.

 _Just tell him you love him._ his inner thoughts spiked at him. _Tell him of your dreams together. How you want your future to be with him. Your dream home, your dream family._ they flooded in painfully after painfully, knifing after knifing. _You love him. And you know that you do, despite everything._

"You are a tyrant," he spat spitefully, holding back the tears. "A bloody tyrant who couldn't possibly know what it's like to care for someone else. Remember when we first met in school?" Merridew stared at him pale-faced. "When I didn't want to be in your group, you decided to haunt me for it everyday! Beating up my friends. Your whole squad were a bloody nightmare!" he bit out indignantly. "And then we arrive on the island and you still act like the _beast_ you always have been. Killing Piggy then isolating me and Simon for months on end!" there was true resentment in what he was saying. Because in truth, he did hate him for that. "And you know I did care for you! I actually loved you, you swine! But you can't pretend that you have rectified everything you have caused, because you haven't and I can't ever be with someone like you!"

Merridew's lips grief stricken, parted slightly. "Are you insinuating I didn't care for you, Ralph?" he thrashed and then the anger came. "That's pretty bold of you to assume that when you have no idea how I feel!"

"Just go," he got out. "Go away, Merridew," His name sizzled on his tongue like cyanide. Never had he referred to him that way since school. But Merridew stalked towards him, limping on his left leg.

Ralph couldn't take it, pelting forward, knocking Merridew in the nose with blood gushing in his knuckles.

"Don't you get it?" he spluttered. "I don't want you ever touching me like that again. You're sick! It's an obsession, Jack! A revolting obsession you have with me not love!" more hurtful declarations tumbled out of his mouth like a bitter poison and he couldn't control it.

**_10pm_ **

With Merridew draping a hand across his nose, Ralph stepped back hastily, realising what he had just said. The clouds parting in the sky with their feathered silky cloth unbinding. His hands were marked now. Jack looked up at him, clenching his fists with the growing anger building speedily on his face. Jack stepped back quickly, stumbling as the grass was soaked from the heavy fall of rain.

Ralph laid his hands out in front of him, the rain pattering down on his bloody knuckles. He glanced up again at Merridew, his nose running with blood that trickled down his chin before his arm retracted upwards to wipe it off. Ralph came forward, lost for words.

What had he done?

The rain sprinkled harshly onto his face like mini knives slicing into his skin. He reached an arm forward, shakily stretching his hand onto Merridew's.

Merridew quickly snatched his hand away, glaring back fiercely at him.

"Don't," he hissed.

"Jack I-" he began, breathy and lost for words. "I didn't mean any of that-"

"Save it," the redhead snapped, cleanly swiping the back of his hand across his dripping nose.

"No-"

"I said save it!" he bellowed, his voice strained and raspy.

Ralph felt queasy, his legs trembling with fear and guilt. His own self doubt had demolished everything they had. And the pain in Merridew's voice. He could hear it. He felt awful.

"No-I didn't mean to hurt you-"

"You made your choice!" he shouted bitterly, gnashing his teeth against the pouring rain. "Now live with it."

Ralph edged closer, clamping his hand on Jack's shoulder. In an instant Jack had clutched hold of his wrist, churning it slightly before yanking it off.

"Fuck off Ralph," he hissed, scooting off in retreat.

And then he was gone. The silhouette of him under the moonlight vanished beyond the hills.

**Present day - 3:30pm**

Ralph felt like an idiot. Of course things couldn't go smoothly without something terrible happening.

Roger came forward in a prowl, clapping sarcastically with his hair draping over his left eye. He quickly pushed it back smoothly, waltzing towards them like this was a performance and he was centre stage. And even with the right amount of rage, Ralph didn't know what to say, his body frozen stiff, his lips sealed.

"Well done, Sam," Roger chortled sardonically. "You've brought me exactly what I wanted," a slither of poison escaped through his smug grin as he inched towards Simon. Ralph held him closely, fearful of what he might do. Roger placed a rough, maniacal hand under Simon's chin, his expression suddenly melting.

Ralph shot a glare of fury at Sam once again, who was cowering away at the back, squinting his eyes. "You didn't tell me _this_ was part of the plan!" Sam spurted nervously. "You told me that no one would get hurt," he lingered on that last word for a while. Roger turned in a huff, removing his hand from Simon. "But you've beaten Simon to near death!" he quivered, his arms shaking. "That wasn't part of the plan!" he repeated.

Ralph couldn't contain his anger any longer, his head thumping in rage like a stormy ocean, cocking his head round to meet Sam in a gaze of malice, towering over him. "How could you bring him here?" Ralph asked snappily, shoving the younger boy forward. Sam jutted backwards, staring him innocently with ocean eyes. "I trusted you!"

"Didn't he tell you?" Roger interjected, sniggering maliciously. "When we invaded your lowly camp, Sam and I made a bargain, a deal if you will," another snigger, his hand covering his mouth. "As Chief and I weren't able to find you, we took the others and left Sam to be our puppet. I conjured up a deal that would benefit the both of us. I would arrive swiftly in the morning, and all Sam had to do was make sure that you all followed me right into my trap," he grimaced darkly. "In doing so we would release Eric."

"But you lied to me!" Sam spat defensively, backing up. "You said that no one would get hurt!" he repeated for the second time.

"And what an imbecile you were to think that. Revenge doesn't come cheap, Sam. _Someone_ must pay the price," he muttered sinisterly. "Besides, you didn't uphold your end of the deal. You were _all_ suppose to follow me. But only Simon did."

"The plan was that I bring you Ralph and Simon in exchange for Eric!" he spluttered, nervously confronting Roger. "It wasn't my fault that only Simon went after you. I was bringing Ralph- so why did you hurt-"

"You really are getting on my nerves." Roger spat. "You failed to uphold your end of the bargain- your fault or not- so I decided to fail mine. Is that not fair?"

"Simon was innocent!" he retaliated. "You really are a tyrant!"

"Watch your tongue before I cut it off," he warned darkly, edging towards him. Sam backed up. "Accusing me of such brutality. In fact, I wasn't going to harm Simon. It was more so collateral damage, he was getting in the way."

Ralph almost opened his mouth to defend Sam, but pursed his lips. Why should he bother to defend him? All this time Sam had been conspiring with the enemy whilst putting on this pretence of innocence, stringing him along into Roger's filthy hands. And although some things were beginning to make sense such as the reason Sam was seemingly the only one they didn't capture or the fact that when given the opportunity to invade Castle rock and save Eric, he chose to go after Simon instead.

But some things were refusing to click; some pieces of the puzzle weren't fitting. Like for example how Sam knew where Roger and Simon would have gone since that wasn't part of the plan. Or how Sam could even contemplate sacrificing his friends so easily.

He couldn't blame him for wanting to save Eric, of course not. But there could've been a better way than betrayal and deceit. Sam could've informed them on Roger's plan and then double crossed him. Three against one. But instead he manipulated him using his charm of innocence, luring him blindly. And that hurt. He trusted Sam, thought that he was someone he could count on. He even put his trust into Roger, however asinine it was of him. Thought that because Roger and Simon grew up together, were dating and such, that Roger would never lay a finger on Simon. He considered that possibly Simon could've convinced Roger to team up with them. But he was wrong.

Everything went wrong.

"But then why'd you let him go?" Sam questioned faintly, a tremble in his voice. Roger snapped his neck round in a hiss.

"How incompetent you are," he retorted, disgruntled. "Never question my reasons, got it?" he snapped malignantly.

Ralph reached a hand across, holding on tightly to Simon's hand. They only had each other now. He nudged him gently, giving him a _Do you think we'd be able to outrun them while their distracted?_ Sort of look. But as soon as that thought followed, Roger gave him a look of disapproval, staring him down with his soulless eyes, his teeth gnawed shut, sneering.

"You two seem _very_ comfortable, despite having your dear friend betray you," Roger snivelled devilishly, pushing his black hair out of his eyes. "Well let's make this interesting. Simon told me all about you, you know," a few spits of laughter ensued. Ralph glanced over at Simon, muddled with confusion. "All about you and _Merridew_ ," he grimaced cynically, the words slithering off his tongue like a snake. That was the first time he had ever heard Roger use Merridew's name. "I didn't know you were _gay,_ Jones," he snickered, scornfully.

Ralph felt his pulse rise, filled with humiliation and shame. His heart pounding with thunderous beats that violently rang in his ears. Like a boat that had capsized, he felt as though he was drowning, the tides of destruction sending him tumbling, gasping for air under the calamitous waves of the unforgiving ocean. Everything was out in the open, the one secret he had been guarding all his life now aired. The one thing he trusted Simon with.

He quickly slipped his hand out of Simon's palm, dismayed by what he had just heard, backing away from him instantly. His head was spinning wildly, taken aback by all the recent elucidation.

Simon turned to him, his eyes welling sorely. "Ralph I didn't mean to!" he spluttered dryly, reaching out his hand. Ralph quickly batted it away, filled with confusion and repentance. He wanted to give Simon the benefit of the doubt, but he was slipping away from rationality. "He was talking about Merridew's reason for revenge and it just slipped."

Ralph darted his eyes over at Sam who was staring at him with a look of repulsion. No doubt he was already on verge of telling the others.

"This was the one secret you said you would keep!" he retaliated, seething in anguish. Nothing could ever be the same again. The secret he had fought blood for, shoved Merridew off a cliff for was aired. And now there was no where left to hide. "Why would you tell Roger of all people?" he questioned in emphasis, feeling his throat burning in agony. He hated being mad at Simon. In an ideal world, he should be able to be proud of his sexuality. But this wasn't an ideal world. And considering Simon knew of the oppressions of being gay, he of all people should've kept quiet. Even if Roger was in fact homosexual too, that didn't make it any better.

Simon turned to Roger in a heated rage, shoving him unexpectedly. "You said you wouldn't tell Ralph I told you!" he cried in a throttled manor. "It was an accident and I told you not to tell anyone!"

Roger seized his wrist, pulling him forward. "Correction," he uttered cleverly. "You told me not to tell the Chief," he confirmed, snickering under his breaths. "Should've been more specific, angel," he muttered slyly. Simon stood in utter silence, appearing defeated.

Ralph was contemplating revealing Roger's sexuality for Sam to hear, but he wouldn't give in to that temptation because it would incriminate Simon. And although Simon did tell Roger about him and Merridew, he knew deep down it wasn't intentional. Simon wasn't that type of person. He couldn't break now.

Because that's what Roger was hoping for. He wanted them to go against each other, wanted to segregate them in order to isolate them. Doing so would put them apart. If they all hated each other, Roger would easily take hold of them. And he couldn't let that happen.

"This has gone too far, Roger!" Simon hissed meekly, freeing himself from Roger's tightened grasp. "Invading the camp is one thing, but putting Sam against us?" he echoed hopelessly. "Putting Ralph against me!"

Roger let out a small laugh under his malign grin, "Sam made his choice," he said smugly. "Chose his twin brother over you," he grinned. "And as for Ralph? Well now he can see that you're not an innocent as you claim. You sit on your noble fucking high grounds, pretending to be better than everyone else. But you're just like the rest of us."

"I don't care!" Simon spat angrily. Ralph had never seen him like this, it was different. "Like I said back in the cave, you're a tyrant!" an exhale spurted from his mouth. "All this chaos you've caused all because I broke up with you!" he spurted accidentally, cupping his hand to his mouth in a pop.

Ralph was nearly taken aback. Simon had done it now. He watched anxiously for Simon as Roger's face melted white. His nose wrinkled, pelting towards Simon in a temper.

"Was it not enough for you to tell my parents?" he roared furiously, unleashing a jab at Simon, with a harsh _slap_ sound, sending him flying down the path. Ralph quickly hurried to him. "Clearly that wasn't enough for you!" he continued, trotting down towards them.

Ralph cradled Simon defensively, his arms aching. His mind was scattered. _Told his parents? Told his parents what?_ The thoughts followed. He didn't know what anything meant, but he wouldn't let Simon get hurt. "Roger, stop," he weakly pleaded, noticing Simon's head fall back onto his shoulder. "You're going to kill him!"

"And that's what I should've done back in the cave!" he retorted bitterly, clashing his teeth shut. Roger came forward, kneeling beside Ralph. "Surely you know how it feels Ralph. You and I aren't so different," he reasoned, manipulation under his tone. "We put our trust in him. Yet he betrayed us."

Ralph gazed long and hard through ocean eyes at Roger, feeling slightly torn. "I won't fall for your trap," he got out finally. "Putting me and Simon against each other so you can easily break us. But it's not happening. No matter what Simon's done."

Roger grimaced at him, laughter under his cold breaths. Ralph darted his eyes to side and saw Sam sidling against the trees, creeping away with a look of shock on his face. Roger must've saw him because he suddenly snapped round and grabbed Sam by the wrist.

"Now, where do you think your going?" he questioned amusedly. Sam pulled and tugged, cries escaping his mouth.

"Let me go!" he persisted. "I gave you them both!" Ralph felt disgusted.

Roger heaved a sigh before knocking him ruthlessly, blood bursting out underneath his knuckles. He only managed to punch his nose in once before Sam dropped to the floor. He then proceeded to crouch down and place two fingers against his neck, before nodding. Ralph tried to shuffle away, abashed in mortification. Roger heaved a breath, before shooting up, trudging towards them, placing a heavy foot on Ralph's leg.

"Don't even think about it," he snapped mercilessly. "Or do you want to end up like Sam?" Ralph darted his eyes over in horror at the bloodied sight.

"You killed him!" he cried, beyond horrified. "You tyrant, you-"

"Shut up," he bellowed emphatically. "I didn't kill him. If I had wanted to kill him, I would've done him in."

"You're insane," he remarked.

"Would you have rather Sam run and tell the others about us?" he questioned harshly. Ralph bit his lip. "Didn't think so. Right about now you should be thanking me. That little shit would've told the others and put us both in the nut house before we even had the chance to feign innocence."

Ralph let out a nervous laugh, loosing all sense of rationality. "You didn't know that he would."

"Oh please," he laughed. "Don't make me laugh. Why else would he be in such a hurry to leave?"

"Because you're insane!" he repeated emphatically. "He was running away because he was scared!"

Roger laughed again. "Ralph, you and I both know he was _eager_ to tell the others of our sins," he drawled. "Besides. He betrayed you. And betrayal demands retribution."

"All because of you!" he spluttered. "You took Eric! So of course he would've done anything to get him back." But Ralph knew there were others ways.

"Don't be a fool," he rolled his eyes, amused. "Sam didn't care about you. He didn't even try to double cross me," another hiss of laugh. "Now," he mused, gaining on them. "Hand me over Simon," he commanded.

"Never!" Ralph retaliated. "I'm not an idiot. Won't let you kill him for your stupid revenge!"

Roger sneered through his teeth, "Do you know what he did?" he questioned maliciously.

Ralph gazed helplessly, taken aback by his question. "Not entirely-"

"He told my parents," he retaliated violently. "You remember back in school when I _moved schools?_ Because I beat up that boy that time? Only that wasn't the reason," he said. "I was sent away to this god awful holy _conversion_ camp. Every night I was beaten and flogged and given painful injections that apparently were supposed to _turn me straight,_ " he paused, clearing his throat. Ralph listened quietly, highly disturbed. "I was stuck there for nearly two years. Stuck in those mangy conditions to rot. And in all those two years all I could do was count down the days I would take my revenge on Simon."

Ralph felt terrible. He disliked Roger with a passion, but no one deserved that. "I'm sorry," was all he could think to say. Roger looked at him briefly. And for that moment, there was no hate in his gaze. "You didn't deserve that. There is nothing wrong with us, Roger," he reassured him gingerly. He wasn't trying to reason with him as such, but he _did_ want Roger to see that revenge was not the answer. "I hated myself for longest time for being gay. Thought I was sick in the head for fancying blokes," he spat uncomfortably. He knew he would regret opening up to Roger, but at this point nothing mattered anymore. And perhaps he was someone who could understand. "But when I was with Jack, it gave me the reassurance I was looking for. I felt happiest around him, loved spending every moment with him. And that's how I knew that it wasn't wrong."

Roger heaved a sigh, his shoulders rolling back smoothly. "Then _you_ of all of people should understand why I hate Simon," he muttered gruffly. "Why he's the problem. Making us believe we are nut jobs."

Ralph looked down at Simon's, cradling him closely. "I do," he admitted. "He shouldn't have told anyone, but I think what you have to realise is that Simon isn't the problem. Society is. Besides, your parents were the ones to send you away! Clearly they weren't good people either since you were their son," he reasoned.

Another heavy sigh escaped Roger's pale lips. "I hate my parents of course. But I won't waste my energy on them since they were shitty people anyway. But Simon was different. He wasn't a shitty person. In fact he was the one person I trusted, the only person worth anything to me," he admitted dryly. "Believe it or not, I loved him. I thought we would stay together, hoped that we would," he spoke quietly. Ralph understood exactly how he was feeling. He thought him and Merridew would've stayed together. "I know you may not like me Ralph, but see my reasoning. Simon broke up with me with no explanation. I went to his house _everyday_ to try and question him," he recalled bitterly. "But his parents kept turning me away, saying Simon didn't want to see me and I had no idea why." Ralph felt sympathy for him. Despite Roger being a sadistic monster, this was something he could relate to. Something Roger didn't deserve.

"In school I would tirelessly hunt him down everyday, desperate to find out why he had suddenly cut me off. But every time I tried to question him, he would either ignore me or say he didn't want to talk about it," he angrily spat in indignation. "So you can understand why I was angry. I fucking loved him. And he refused to tell me why he was shutting me out."

"He didn't ever tell you?" Ralph questioned meagrely, disappointed in Simon.

"Oh he did," he rolled his eyes, pacing. "But it was too late by that point. See, I tried for weeks to find out the truth from him but he never bothered," a pause and a sharp inhale. "A few weeks later I come home and my parents are gathered in the dining room, dead silent," he voice cracked and Ralph could sense the pain in his voice. "I wonder what's going on, because a few minutes later my father gets up and then my mother starts to cry," he said, stomping his foot against the ground. "They tell me that Simon had swung by earlier and told them that I was gay and hitting on him."

"He would never-" Ralph gasped in mortification.

"But he did!" Roger thrashed violently, a sob escaping his mouth. "I told my parents that I had no idea what he was talking about, because we were only friends and that I liked girls, but they didn't buy it!"

"But why-"

"It's because Simon was the fucking pastor's son!" his wrath was sheening through his teeth, his voice deep and contorting. Ralph couldn't comprehend anything. "Because of his status, my parents believed every word of his story and proposed I be sent to the conversion camp."

"Roger... I had no idea," he admitted ruefully, questioning whether Simon was really a good person. Looking down on him in disgust, loosening his grip slightly.

"The night before I was due to leave, I went outside for a smoke. When finally he showed up, I was eagerly waiting his explanation. But all I received was a short, ramble. That he was scared of the others finding out about us. So In anger I asked him why he decided to fucking tell my parents, but he barely answered. He said something along the lines of _I wanted you to leave me alone... didn't want you to be sent away.. blah blah._ But at that point I knew he was just like everyone else. Stubbed out my cigarette and went back inside."

Ralph couldn't blame Roger. Hearing his story was painful in itself. "I don't blame you," he said openly. Roger swivelled his head, surprised. "I really don't. What he put you through was... awful."

"Then you understand now," Roger sighed deeply. "Why I have to kill him."

Ralph quickly shook his head. He quickly thought of telling Roger his own story. "You'll regret it, Roger." he began unsurely. Roger raised a dark brow. "The thing Simon told you was true," he confirmed. "Me and Jack were together and I ruined everything. One night, I was with him as usual, but afterwards he wanted to tell everyone that we were in a relationship. I panicked. I didn't want anyone finding out. One thing led to another," he rambled. "And then we were on the edge of this cliff. He kept spurting out all of our secrets out into the open!" he continued speedily, stumbling over his words. "I was so scared that I shoved him. But I didn't realise we were so close to the edge, because Jack fell."

A terrible accident it was. But it still haunted him every hour of every day.

"Jesus Jones," Roger remarked. "That's why Chief has been relentlessly plotting against you," he reckoned. "But what's that got to do with Simon?"

"B-because we all do things we don't mean out of fear or anger!" he explained hurriedly. "I know Simon and I know he wouldn't have done it for no reason."

"Why didn't he talk to me about it?" Roger questioned firmly. "He could've easily."

"Sometimes it's not that easy," he shrugged. "Maybe Simon thought that you wouldn't understand, maybe he thought that you wouldn't listen or maybe even he was scared he would hurt you," he considered, laying out the possibilities. "What I'm trying to say is no matter what Simon has done, revenge isn't the answer. Look at the island," he pointed out. "It wasn't always like this, we were all friends."

Roger brought his hand to his mouth, "So what?"

"It means that you need to forgive and forget," he lightly suggested. "It's been over three years for god's sake. I'm sure if Simon could go back and change what he said, he would. But he can't. He cares about you Roger and I know despite all this, you care about him too."

Roger went silent, spitting to the side before gazing at Simon. He frowned thickly before sighing deeply. "Of course I care for the bastard," he admitted surprisingly. "As Simon blurted, we were together."

"I already knew anyway, Roger," he said. Roger wrinkled his nose. "No, Simon didn't tell me before you get mad at him again. I was coming over Simon's house to ask if he wanted to study, but his door was locked so I assumed he either wasn't home or he just wasn't answering the door," Roger's face eased, but Ralph still felt compelled to tell the rest of what happened. "But Simon told me once that if he didn't answer it meant his parents weren't home and to come through the back."

"So you just walk into people's houses?" he looked disturbed. "You really are a strange fucker, Ralph."

"No, he gave me a key to his house," he said in defence. "Because we were best friends. So I came in the back, but when I went upstairs to find him, his bedroom door was shut and I heard... noises," he gulped in a throttled manor of embarrassment.

"Just spit it out then," he demanded, his face a little hot with embarrassment.

"I heard you two fucking!" he spurted, discomfited. Roger rolled his eyes.

"Well done," he scoffed, jeeringly. "We did have our fuck's now and then," he grimly added. Ralph felt a shiver up his spine.

"Y-yes and that's how I knew," he stuttered, feeling hot and sweaty.

"I'm impressed," Roger remarked, in a sort of misplaced compliment. "And you didn't tell anyone?" he redirected.

Ralph shook his head, "Of course not," he confirmed. "Why would I? I didn't have a problem with you two being together as long as you treated him well."

Roger heaved a sigh, "Thank-I appreciate you not doing that," he struggled to get out, clearing his throat. "You know, I'm not a monster. Despite what everyone thinks of me, I don't just kill people for the hell of it. It's not like I wanted to hurt Simon."

Ralph just nodded. He couldn't be sure if his tone was sincere or not. Roger heaved another sigh. "Would he ever forgive me?" he said in a deep hoarse voice.

"I don't know," he admitted. "But if you care about him you'll try anyway."

"Suppose you're right."

Suddenly a groan sounded next to them, in addition to a scuffling noise. Ralph darted his eyes to see Sam stumbling to his feet, wobbling all over the place. Once he regained stability, he turned to look at them both with a face like thunder.

"Ralph how can you just sit there?" he spluttered frustratingly, staggering forward, with an arm draped over his nose which was stained red with crisp blood. "He just tried to kill me!"

Ralph held his fists tightly in vexation. How dare he question his loyalty, when he had just broken his. He quickly got to his feet, "And what were you planning?" Ralph questioned, hurt. Sam said nothing. "You were leading me into a trap! Leading me into Roger's hands in knowing he would kill me!"

Roger frowned at him.

"I-I had to get Eric back!" he retaliated softly. "Tell me you wouldn't have done the same if it were Simon on the line!"

"You could've talked to me about it," he retorted. "Could've done something. It would've been us three against one!" Roger snorted at his remark, seemingly enjoying their quarrel.

"I-I had no choice. I'm sorry, OK?" his voice was desperate and eager, but Ralph didn't care.

"As much as I hate Roger, he at least has a reason for all this. And I think he's trying to fix it," he gave a tad glance over at Roger who had his hand to his mouth, as if he were trying to hold back laughter. "But you didn't even try."

"You are joking," Sam chortled distinctively. "He's a menace. You said it yourself!" Ralph said nothing. Roger had done terrible things, unforgiveable things but he knew Simon would die if anything happened to him. And he was hoping that somewhere there was something fixable inside him. That he could relent Simon's mistakes and move on.

"But he cares about Simon. And that's enough, enough to do whatever it takes to make it up to him."

Sam snorted with disgust. "You're believing him?"

"Yes, because he loves Simon. I know there's still hope left." Roger cleared his throat a little in discomfort.

"I can't believe I was consorting with a bunch of poof's," he retorted spitefully. Ralph felt his chest tighten. "All I wanted was to get Eric back. But the plan went horribly wrong and now I find out that you, Simon, Roger and Merridew are all a bunch of fairies!" he exclaimed indifferently, a bitterness in his tone.

Roger flashed an indignant look at Sam before stalking towards him in clatters. With his fingers clenched into a fist his grabbed Sam's neck and tightened it compulsively. Sam struggled, his legs kicking as Roger held his fist in place. Ralph gasped in horror, letting go of Simon before advancing towards him.

"Roger stop!" he warned. "He isn't worth it!"

But Roger's fierce glare only became more malignant and raw, his eyes set red.

"I think you're sick... " Sam choked out, with little air in his words. "You and Ralph are broken. Broken by the events in your life... and it's made you sick. You're messed up. So you infect those around you with your disease. You infected Simon, Roger. You make him sick, too. He was doing just fine, perfect, in fact, before you entered his life."

"You've outlived your use, Sam," was all he said through seething teeth. "It is not us who are sick, but you. You are the one that causes unnecessary hate in this world. And it is you who will pay for it."

Roger's rage became apparent as he grappled both bare hands onto Sam's head firmly with brutal strength. Ralph tirelessly tugged on Roger's arms, begging him to stop but it was no use. He was so fraught with rage and anger that he wasn't listening.

And moments later Roger's hands savagely twisted Sam's head to the right in a clean, quick _crunch like click_. And that was it. Sam's lifeless body dropped to the floor like a heavy stone onto the grassy hill bank. The cold bitter air knifing against Ralph's skin as he watched in mortification.

Sam was dead. And Roger had killed him.

The wind picked up as if it was winter, the coldness shrouding him. Roger heaved a breath, wiping an arm across his forehead. "It had to be done," was all he said, breathlessly. But Ralph couldn't find the words to say, his voice mute.

Roger swiftly advanced towards Simon and leant down next to him. With a flutter of his eyes, Simon awoke, heavy with injury, stained with blood.

"I'm sorry," Roger said with genuine remorse and repentance, embracing him softly. "For everything."

Simon barely moved, but his arms had entangled clumsily around Roger, his head resting on his shoulder with sniffles escaping his mouth, dried blood branded on his mouth.

Ralph watched, baffled in conflicting emotions. Should he be happy that Roger is mending or at least attempting to mend things with Simon? Or should he be resenting him for blatantly murdering Sam in cold blood? Despite his hurtful declarations, Ralph didn't wish him dead. They were friends at one point. For a long time in fact. So perhaps he should feel relief that Sam is dead? As he didn't accept them for who they are. But he didn't know.

Nothing could be helped. Sam's body lying stone-cold against the trodden grass, with the flowers all but wilting beside him in sweet decay. What would Eric say? How would he feel, cope with the loss of his twin brother?

He felt hopeless, empty. And in all his confusion, he found himself wandering aimlessly towards Roger and Simon and plopping beside them in misery. Simon turned towards him and wrapped his arms around him. But Ralph didn't know how to react.

Still haunted by Sam's lifeless body.


	12. I miss my loverman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge apologise for not updating. I have been extremely busy over the holiday's and have been also writing new stories in the meantime (not published yet but will be after I finish this story.)  
> I'm planning to have two or three chapters after this one so ignore the 13 chapter limit.   
> Thank you for all your support!   
> I know it's been a while, so flick through the last chapter if you've forgotten what's happened.

**Present day - 13:00PM May 12th**

It had dawned on Ralph, that even with things seeming hopeful, things would never be the same again.

He had witnessed Sam's neck _crunch_ right in front of his eyes, his lifeless body plummet to the ground for the last time. The mere scene was something he couldn't register. Sam however homophobic he clearly was, didn't deserve to die. Especially not when he had questions for him.

And now here he was, dragging his sore heels along the path to Castle rock with Roger and Simon close beside him. Roger with his black hair flopped over his temple and Simon, hand attached to Roger's as if everything was normal. What surprised him most is how Roger managed to let go of his grudge and forgive Simon. Especially with everything that happened.

They had rested for the night, they were all exhausted and it was getting dark. The next morning they mostly just rested, talked a little, got food, lit a fire. Admittedly, the tension in the air had dispersed drastically.

Was that all Roger needed? A goodnight sleep? And not one spent in some mental facility.

Throughout the night, Simon had cozied up to Roger, arms looped around his waist in his attempt to follow a _big spoon, little spoon_ position of sleeping. But as expected, Roger came behind Simon and flipped the position.

It wasn't like he was watching them sleep like a weirdo. It was more so genuine curiosity to how Simon could be cosying up to him after everything he had done. Especially after he had just killed Sam that day.

After a big debacle, they had decided to bury Sam. It was a bit messy and quite frankly uncomfortable but they couldn't think of anything else. Roger had insisted he didn't deserve one, but Ralph couldn't bear leaving him out in the open for the daws to peck at. So they buried him.

Somehow maybe that slight shred of goodness that was buried deep in Roger's darkened soul had reawakened and allowed him to see some sense of rationality in everything. Allowed him to settle with forgiveness and move on. Not that he could be sure Roger had really forgave Simon. Perhaps Roger's diseased mind had concocted yet another sinister plan to lure them into a trap.

Perhaps this was all a pretence. Masquerading some sense of forgiveness only to lead them to their deaths. So he had to stay cautious, had to monitor every step they took. Because this could be a trap.

Roger was in fact top of the class in Drama, along with Merridew, so it wouldn't be foolish to think that he acted his way through the whole escapade. Pretended to forgive Simon, with the resentment and vitriolic malice seething savagely under his pale-sodden skin. He would wait till they got to Castle rock before nastily handing them over to Merridew. And where would that leave Simon? Alone and palely loitering. Having been betrayed.

_"I'm sorry," Roger said with genuine remorse and repentance, embracing him softly. "For everything."_

_Simon barely moved, but his arms had entangled clumsily around Roger, his head resting on his shoulder with sniffles escaping his mouth, dried blood branded on his mouth._

Simon seemed to forgive Roger, despite every horrific injury he had inflicted upon him. Maybe it was in his nature to. After all he was the pastor's son and spent many years devoting himself to his religion back in England. Forgiveness was always a strong theme in the Bible. Perhaps that is why he forgave Roger so easily.

Or maybe Simon had become accustomed to the Biblical Hebrew law of retaliation. _An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth._ Meaning that if you take someone's eye out, they take yours out in retaliation. Since Simon had unintentionally inflicted years of harm upon Roger, perhaps he felt obliged to get the same punishment. In order to find a sense of balance.

But that was only an idea. He didn't even know if Roger and Simon were back together officially or whether they had just forgiven one another, but he could only hope things would look up from here.

"Keep up would you, Jones!" a husky voice belted from in front of him. Ralph wasn't aware he had fallen behind them, so he advanced forward in a hurry to catch up.

"Sorry," he managed flatly, still rather intimidated by the black haired boy.

"We're nearly there anyway," Roger affirmed bluntly.

"So what's the plan?" Ralph quizzed, nervously. After all Roger hadn't said a word about nothing. They slept for the night and the next morning was spent collecting food and whatnot. He should've asked Roger what he was planning, or in fact why he was choosing to help them.

Roger tutted. "Do you have no faith in me?" he questioned irritably.

"Can you blame me?" he chuckled sarcastically. "You went off with Simon yesterday, came back to sleep and then all morning you haven't said anything."

"I said I'd take you to Castle rock," he said bluntly. "That not enough?"

"Why are you helping us?" Ralph spurted with excessive curiosity. Simon angled towards him nervously.

Roger rolled his eyes, "I'm not doing it for you, Ralph," he glanced over at Simon. "Chief hasn't been himself since you two... split. And it's rather painful to see him wallowing in self pity all the time. Plus I used to be treated with respect, but now all I do is chores!" he exclaimed with a look of disgust.

Ralph took mental note of this. Did it mean that Merridew would forgive him?

"How can I still trust you? This could all be a trap!" he spurted unintentionally.

Roger laughed mockingly. "Even when I have nothing to gain from betraying you, you still doubt me," he laughed again, seemingly amused. He felt flustered, irked and irritated by Roger's demeanour, but he couldn't let him get under his skin. "How did chief put up with you?" a slither of a laugh spewed voraciously, clearly enjoying humiliating him.

_He's just trying to get under your skin. Trying to make you uncomfortable._ his thoughts spooled. "I'm sorry that I don't trust the person who nearly killed my best friend, killed Sam and has been a bastard ever since day one," Ralph hissed impetuously. "Would it kill you just to stop being such an insufferable pig for once?" he questioned emphatically. At it occurred to him instantly that he was having withdrawal symptoms. The infamous "pig" insult had slipped off his tongue almost naturally.

It was detrimental. He missed Merridew.

**2 years ago. After the island fire.**

Merridew spared him. _Spared_ him. Called off his hunters and invited him and Simon to feast with him and the others. But it felt foreign dining with his enemy, especially when he hadn't given them any explanation to why he decided to grow a conscience. So he decided to leave early, take a walk somewhere because anywhere was better than here.

He felt a bit guilty for leaving Simon, but he seemed to be enjoying himself. Strangely. As he left, he made his way through the thicket, crossing it to the beach. But as he edged closer, he could hearing the thumps of footsteps rumbling behind him, a faint voice calling for him.

So he started to run, because he knew for a fact it was Merridew. And he did _not_ want an encounter with him, he wanted to be alone. Even with burning questions he had for him, that wasn't enough incentive to stop and chat to him. He hated him, hated him for every cruel thing he had done. Here and back at school.

He looked behind his shoulder and saw Merridew running behind him, panting a little. Ralph tried to run faster but it was hopeless. Merridew was gaining on him and he couldn't escape the truth. Couldn't unwind this crimson thread of fate that was tightly knotted to his wrist and then wound around Merridew's. Inextricably linked.

"Ralph- god dammit wait!" the redhead called after him.

Ralph couldn't dare look back again, his eyes fixed ahead of him. Whatever revolting excuse Merridew had for sparing him, he didn't care. Not when Piggy was dead.

"Leave me alone, Merridew!" he hissed, his voice strangled and raw.

But Merridew was steps behind him, seizing his wrist with a pale, rough hand, a smirk emerging slyly on his parted lips. Ralph felt his clavicle tense, filled with putrid sensuality. He struggled feebly, tugging on his last grips of reality. Any last ditch attempt to escape this goddamned island; to escape Merridew.

"Would you stop being so bloody difficult, Ralph?" Merridew lashed out, seizing his shoulders with his smirk receding into a frown, his freckled cheeks flushing red. Ralph felt his temper rise.

"Don't you tell me what I can and cannot do!" he retaliated. "You're a bloody pig, Merridew. A pig who has no feelings, no care for anyone but yourself. I despise you," he retorted bitterly.

Merridew's face turned sour, "Are you always this prudent?" he questioned vexingly, a malign grin drawing up his lips. "Do you think just because you haven't invested your time in _my_ endeavours that you're better than me?" spews of laughter and an inhale.

"What are you going on about?" he spluttered, highly irked with humiliation as he staggered over his words. Merridew was staring at him blankly. "Just leave me alone, you've had your fun. You've taken everything from me!" words spooled from his mouth in bitter fear. "What more do you want... ?"

Merridew grinned once more, the smugness intensifying. "You always say you want me to leave, but we both know that isn't true," he crooned mockingly, his large hand trailing down to his crotch, groping it ever so delicately. "Don't you owe it to me?" he hitched a whisper in his ear, reeling him in. Ralph could feel the arousal, the tension compressing him to the point he could feel the bulge through his undergarments. "If I hadn't called off my hunters, you'd be dead."

Ralph groaned a little. Why did he ache for Merridew? For goddamn _Merridew?_ Why out of all the boys did his harboured lust tie to him? It was unsettling, but he couldn't quit him. Ralph resisted, using his some what athletic strength to push him off. Merridew staggered back a little, pressing a thumb to his lip.

"I don't owe a bloody thing to you!" Ralph retaliated, backing up from him. He wanted to hate him. Hate him for every bloody thing he had done to him. But he couldn't. He was drawn to him somehow like a moth to a flame. Merridew was complex, interesting and he supposed that's why he had always been interested in him.

"Feisty," he retorted, drawing a thumb up his lip. Ralph felt his chest tighten as Merridew stalked closer with his eyes gazing back lustily at his.

"Just get away from me, Jack," he seethed perniciously. "Haven't you done enough?" he almost choked on his own words, the pain he was feeling was encapsulating him. Merridew said nothing, appearing indifferent. "Don't you get it? You secluded me and Simon for months only to then call off your bloody hunters and put on this bloody masquerade!" his voice was husky and scratchy, conflicting emotions all flooding in at once. "Pretending to have suddenly changed when you know that just isn't true."

Merridew wrinkled his nose, grimacing. "Nothing ever satisfies you, does it?" he questioned, disgruntled. "You're always mad at me- no matter what I fucking do," his voice grew louder. "No matter how hard I try."

"Can you expect anything less?" he enunciated in a breathy voice, surprised how dense Merridew was acting. How could he expect Ralph to just forgive him? "You've ruptured this whole island. Ruined everything!"

"I'm trying to fix it, Ralph," he declared loudly. "God-dammit Ralph I'm trying. What more do you want from me?" his question was genuine and raw and it took Ralph a while to register it.

All this time he had only known Jack as this cruel and heartless tyrant who's only goal was to torment and manipulate him. So he couldn't quite come to terms with Jack asking what _he_ wanted. It was normally about what Merridew wanted. It was always _Ralph, we need meat. Ralph, I want a feast. Ralph, I want you to come hunting with me._ He never cared for anyone else's desires, unless they would benefit him.

"I want you to leave," he repeated insistently, brushing aside Merridew's attempts. He couldn't bare to be tricked. "Because I know what this is. This is another manipulation game. You're going to lure me into a trap, pretend that you want to change, pretend that you give a goddamn shit about me only to then capture me," he spewed tremulously. He was hoping that wasn't the case, but he couldn't risk it.

Merridew sighed, leaning in with his red hair flashing in Ralph's line of view. "This is not a trap," he declared openly. "I promise, Ralph. This time I'm telling the truth. I know I haven't always been exactly... reliable. Truthful. But this is me trying," he assured him with a certain security in his voice.

"I can't trust you!" he spurted angrily. "Because you've done so many terrible things!"

Merridew sighed audibly, caressing a rough hand across his cheek. Ralph felt a shiver up his spine. "I know I have, but I want you to trust me. I _want_ you," he crooned softly. And Ralph felt that same itch in his crotch, the desire sheening through.

"Y-you can't just be a swine for years on end, taunt me and isolate me and then suddenly say all this," he spurted. "You've always hated me, always wanted to be chief and feed off other's misery. Inflicting harm on everyone because that's what you live to do!"

"I inflicted harm on the others because this island has all driven us mad, you know it too! But I never harmed you," he inhaled sharply. "I never hurt you, _Ralph_." His hand still rested on his cheek and Ralph quickly, brushed it off.

"Of course you hurt me!" he retaliated hotly. "You ordered your bloody hunters to kill me! And you killed Piggy."

"His death was an accident," he affirmed, slight repentance in his voice. "I never told Roger to kill Piggy, he did it on his own accord."

"You didn't?"

"No, I only told them to kill you."

"What?" he questioned, feeling slightly upset. "This is the thing with you Merridew, you're so bloody confusing."

"Ralph I like you! For god's sake. Ever since school in fact," he stammered, his face hotly resembling his hair colour. Ralph didn't know what to feel. All this time, he thought Merridew's flirty and clearly inappropriate advances on him were merely a way to control him, to break him to the point of no return. A way to have this leverage over him. But school. God, the fact that him and Jack were close. "But you didn't want me. You were glued to your loser friends and It hurt because I couldn't have you. So I thought if I was to feel better, it'd be the only way. You were the prey and I was the hunter. And If I was to feel anyone's blood, I wanted it to be _yours_. I wanted _your_ blood on my hands, goddammit Ralph," he finished, pushing his fire red hair off of his sweaty face.

Ralph didn't know what to think. He was not only highly disturbed, but disgusted by his reasoning's.

"So you _were_ going to kill me?" Ralph questioned angrily in widened eyes.

"What do you want me to say, huh?" he vented, lashing out. "Want me to pretend that I'm nice and that I feel guilty for the things that I do, because I already told you, that's not _me_ ," he admitted ashamedly. "But I'm trying to at least learn from my mistakes," he swallowed, struggling to get it all out. "I want to be a better person for _you_ and only _you_ , Ralph, screw the others," he exhaled deeply as if that was the hardest thing for him to say. Ralph studied him closely.

"What made you change your mind?" he questioned. "You not killing me that is. Calling off the hunters," Merridew and his bloody hunters chased him down like a pack of wild animals to the beach. Ralph assumed him and Simon were goner's. Until that is, Merridew suddenly appeased his hunters and called off the hunt. He said that he was tired of fighting and that they were going to have a feast.

But of course him and Simon were wary, shaken up and filled with confusion. But they had nothing left to loose. He attended the feast and Merridew was nothing but hospitable to him. And it felt weird at the time since only a few days ago, Piggy was killed in cold blood.

"Because you're the only person I care about," he retorted passionately. "Call me a tyrant, call me a liar, but it's the truth. I've had you fixated in my head for so long, years even. Had all these plans on ways to get a hold of you, because I _had to have you_. First in school, but you rejected me. So on the island I thought of another plan. The hunting, the feasts, all of it. I thought I could impress you with it, but all you cared about was that goddamn signal fire," he said assuredly with a flicker of resentment and jealousy in his tone. "That's when the idea had settled. _Your_ blood on my hands. But I couldn't do it Ralph-I couldn't lose you, lose the only person I cared about, even if I couldn't have you," he got out coarsely, but in a genuine tone.

Ralph could see he was being honest. Because Merridew never ever admitted to anything. Before, he was this mindless, empty hunter who danced and killed and hid behind a clay mask, hid behind war paint. But Merridew had changed, he could feel it somehow, if that made any sense. If he wanted to, he could've easily killed him, let him die in the island fire, plunge his bloody sharpened stick into him. But he didn't. Instead he had spared him. After all that abandonment and isolation, he had come to find him. To try and apologise, which was bloody rare.

Ralph found himself drawing forward, furtive with feeble rationality. He couldn't promise himself that this wasn't a ploy or a trap, but his heart was pulling him along. He couldn't stop himself. There had always been something between them for some time. Both physically and emotionally. Every touch, every breath, every whisper. Even despite his distaste and utter disgust for Merridew.

Conflicting emotions driving him in different directions. He knew Merridew was a pig, a callous prick and highly self centred. And that drove him away. But he was drawn to him. Felt this connection to him that he couldn't explain. When he had first moved to school, he had no interest being friends with Mr Merridevil. Mostly because he had heard so many awful things about him. He became friends with Simon instead based of this assumption.

He remembered first moving to his new house. It was just his luck that him and Merridew lived in the same estate, not on the same street, but a few streets up from him. At the time he had no idea of Merridew's existence. Until he was moving boxes outside and happened to eavesdrop on his new neighbours conversation.

_"I heard the Merridew's offered you a job," the wife had congratulated her husband._

_An audible grunt, "Just my luck. It was the only job I could find."_

_"But honey, they are the wealthiest people in town. They can offer a great prospect for people like us!"_

_"They're a bunch of pompous bastards, the lot of them," he retorted._

_"It's only business, darling," she kindly reminded. "Now we can finally send Peter to private school. A better education for him."_

_"Mr Merridew's son goes to that school," he remarked bitterly. "Do we really want our son to be around such an influence?"_

_"Oh deary, you can't tar everyone with the same brush," she cooed, gently. "I'm sure he is a lovely lad."_

_The husband snorted. "On my way to work this morning, I saw him on the corner smoking a cigarette!" he hissed indignantly. "A cigarette at his age!" he enunciated._

That was Ralph's first impression of Merridew. He didn't know who this boy was, but he knew that he too would be attending the same school as him. When the time rolled around and he finally arrived at his new school, he was introduced to him rather swiftly. Merridew happened to be a pretty important person in school. Not only was he a prefect and head of one of the four school houses, but he was also head chorister boy. And it just so happened he was in the same tutor group as him as well as most of the same classes. And to put the cherry on top, Merridew was assigned as his buddy for the week: show him around school, help him get to lessons, etc.

Ralph wasn't too bothered about him at the time. Sure he was undeniably... attractive. But he knew what guys like him were like. An ego the size of a mountain and a bigger player than a footballer. He tried to stray away from him for a while, scared that he would get mixed up with someone like him, but Merridew had clearly already latched onto him. Inviting him to join his group, wanting him to sit at lunch with them. Secretly, he was itching at the chance to get close to him. But last minute he declined his offer and stayed away.

He wasn't going to waste his time with someone like that, especially not someone who declared in class that he should be allowed to go to the toilet because he could _Sing C sharp._ He was friends with Simon instead and clearly Merridew didn't like that. From then on he treated him indifferently, bullying him and his friends at every given opportunity, whilst blanking him the other times. Even when Merridew told him why he had treated him so badly, he wasn't opting to forgive him just like that. And yet here he was.

With a conflicted sigh, he leaned his head onto Merridew's shoulder, looping around Merridew's neck and pulling him into an embrace with all feelings of worry leaving. It wasn't much, but it was enough. Merridew's touch, Merridew's smell was all he had been longing for. No matter how much he would deny it-he wanted him.

Merridew held him closely, leaning his head on his. For that moment, Ralph could finally separate Jack from Merridew.

**Present day - 12th May**

Ralph sniffled, displaying out his hands in front of him. He ruined everything they had.

"Roger," Simon piped up softly, a hand snaking around Roger's wrist. The black haired boy glanced down at him, then back at the road ahead. "What are we going to do at Castle rock?"

Roger tutted, "I don't know," he suddenly admitted. Ralph could swear he had heard wrong.

"What do you mean you don't know?" Ralph questioned sourly, wiping his eyes.

An audible groan, "I said I'd take you. Can't you do anything yourself?"

Ralph felt anxious all of a sudden but repressed the urge to show it, "So you don't have a plan?" he questioned firmly. Roger flicked back his head at him. "Then where are we going?"

"Castle rock."

"But you just said you have no plan!" he retorted emphatically. "We can't just go in."

Simon gave him a gentle nudge, but he ignored him.

"Well this is your mess, mr perfect," Roger spat irritably. "So how about you come up with a plan," his voice was bitter and stoic. Ralph gulped.

He felt a hot flush of anger pass him. He thought that since Roger had finally grown a conscience and sided with them that he would at least have come up with a plan.

Ralph thought for a moment, hoping a plan would miraculously come about. He pondered for a second, brooding over every possibility. Now Roger was on their side, it would be far easier to appease the others. It was only Maurice, Robert and Merridew they had to watch out for. The other boys were practically harmless. Especially the little uns.

Everyone was scared of Roger, even Merridew. Perhaps they could use this to their advantage.

"Roger everyone is scared of you," he stated firmly. Roger chuckled thickly.

"Could you be anymore stuck up?" he questioned in disgust.

"Can we stop walking for a minute?" Ralph retorted. Simon and Roger stopped, angling towards him.

"This better be good."

Ralph drew out a sigh, "Roger," he began. "The other boys- they're scared of you. And perhaps that means they would listen to you."

Roger rolled his eyes in chagrin, "And?" his question was rhetorical, but Ralph was prodded to carry on.

Ralph took a glance around the jungle to make sure no one was spying on them before continuing, "That means we can get them on our side!" he spluttered energetically. "Merridew won't be able to fight us all if he's alone," he chirped in an optimistic way.

"You want me to scare the others into siding with us?" Roger drawled thickly. "How ironic. Risky too."

"How is it risky?" he questioned profusely.

"Before I left to go track you down, lure you to Castle rock," he said. "Chief had told me he was going hunting with the others," he reported. "What I'm saying is, he will be with the others at all times, even if he has already come back from hunting, he's smart enough to know that you could pursue him at any given time and he'll be ready for that."

Ralph felt his heart drop a little. "We can still try," he affirmed half-heartedly. "Threaten them."

Roger just groaned, "S'not that simple," he persisted. "Let me spell it out for you in _simpler_ terms," he spoke mockingly. "Imagine you are in a boxing ring, right?" he suddenly brought up. "And it's three against five for example. Even if you act intimidating and manage to strike fear on the other team, they will still have the advantage because there is more of them. Sure, you might be able to scare them a little, throw them off guard. But every time, they'll win."

Ralph couldn't quite grasp what he was getting at. This wasn't a boxing ring and they weren't thinking of intimidating Merridew and the others. They wanted to get the others on their side so Merridew wouldn't be able to use them.

"What are you getting at?" he quizzed.

"Are you that stupid?" he asked cynically. "In a boxing match, you can't just take other players from the opposing team. I know this isn't boxing, but the same rules apply. Chief won't let us take his _teammates_ , no matter what. And we can't threaten them to come from afar, because Chief will be threatening them to stay. And we can't try to take them by force because of the imbalance. There is more of them," he explained hastily. "And as I said already, Chief knows you might try something. He'll be ready for you and the others will be close by so we can't isolate them."

"But in your boxing analogy, what if the team of three is physically stronger than the team of five?" Ralph queried. "As much as a hate to admit it- you are the strongest. Even stronger than Jack."

"It's not enough," he concluded curtly. "Me and chief would most likely draw to a stalemate. I could possibly overpower him in a normal situation, but with the other hunters there, no bloody way. And Ralph, you're not exactly Sonny Liston or Muhammed Ali. You're weak is what I'm saying. And Simon," he angled towards him, with a hopeless look. "He wouldn't hurt a fly- literally."

Ralph peered up at the sky in hopelessness, a yellow billow wafting across in a gradient. It was true. Roger was the only one out of them capable of standing a chance against them all. He couldn't exactly bank on Merridew showing him mercy or remorse by calling off his hunters, so that gamble was off the table. "Then what can we do?"

Roger heaved a sigh, "I have an idea. But it's going to require a lot of trust."

"Go on..."

"Originally, Chief ordered me to capture you and Simon and bring you to him. Mostly you, actually Ralph," he explained. Ralph looked at him, feeling anxious. "I think we should stick to the plan, but fake it. Chief will assume that he finally has you both, so his rules might loosen, allowing us to strike when he least expects it," he marvelled. "With my outstanding acting skills and your... desperate need for things to repair, I think we can pull it off," he assured them.

He gazed down at Simon in worry. Simon looked up at him, but he didn't appear worried. This plan would require him to let Roger of all people have complete control. Hoisting them towards Castle rock with a double cross.

"How will that work?" Simon piped up softly. "If we're thrown into the _dungeon_ , it'll just be you left," his thoughtful face lit up and his voice turned to worry. "What if something happens to you?"

"I'll come and get you all. Once Chief believes he's won, there'll be a party. He told me this beforehand. In that time I can slip away and release you. Then when they're all distracted, we attack."

Ralph felt a mix of feelings. Was this what he really wanted? To strike at Merridew to fix everything? He couldn't help but feel it wouldn't fix things, but make him more angry from Roger's betrayal. This wasn't what he wanted. Not at all.

"What happens then?" Ralph inquired bluntly. "After we strike him down- what does strike even mean anyway?"

Roger tutted, "It means we checkmate him."

Ralph was dazed with confusion, feeling slightly impatient. Since when did Roger play chess?

"And what is that suppose to mean? This isn't a game of chess."

"No but if you think of chief as the king and the hunters as knights, pawns, bishops and rooks, our job is to capture as many pieces as possible to leave the king undefended," he articulated rather meticulously. "If we take down the others, chief will be cornered."

"So we're going to leave him defenceless," the words spurted quickly one after another. He felt awful, this wasn't what he wanted to happen.

"Oh quit whining," he retorted. "If you had listened properly I said we're going to corner him. And in that time, you two can work things out. Try to make him see reason or whatever corny stuff you do," he chuckled.

Simon looked dubious, staying silent. Ralph didn't comment. There was no other way, another way that would work anyway. So they kept on walking, turning the corner, hands propelling the hanging creepers out of the way until they reached the entrance to Castle rock once again.

Ralph hurried over while making sure to be as quiet as possible. Last time him, Simon and Sam were here, there was strangely no sign of the hunters. But he knew this time would be different.

Before he could make another step, Roger seized his wrist. He was going to complain until Roger pointed directly over to the stone walls where two hunters stood. He nearly held his breath, petrified of them noticing. Roger hauled both him and Simon in amongst the creepers to hide from sight.

"So do you trust me?" he turned to Ralph.

He gazed at Roger, gulping thickly. It wasn't that he didn't want to go through with the plan, but he had an odd feeling in his gut. He didn't trust Roger, not in the slightest. And who could blame him? He had hunted them down, assaulted Simon, mercilessly killed Sam. So how could he hand over his trust? How could he be sure Roger wasn't going to capture them for real and then reap in victory?

He had to decide. And fast. If he refused, then they would have to make up a new plan which could take ages. And judging by how Simon was angling towards him with his eyes wobbling about nervously, he didn't want to let him down by causing a scene, spewing out his inner feelings of distrust towards Roger. Especially not considering Simon and Roger had just reconciled. He didn't want to cause a rift between them.

"No!" Ralph blurted unintentionally. Now he'd done it. Roger angled towards him, frowning. "Really, how do I know you won't just betray us?

"You don't," he splayed his hands in full view. Ralph felt uneased by this statement. "But really you have no choice. Besides, what would I gain from betraying you?" Roger had grappled hold of Simon's hand possessively. "Ralph, I would betray you. But not Simon," he spoke placidly, sweetly for that one moment. Simon winced, smiling helplessly at Roger.

Ralph shuddered slightly, aware of the chill in the air. How he missed the warmth. He could stand here and give plenty of reasons why Roger would betray them, even Simon. But it would get them no where.

"Whatever, let's do this."


End file.
